RUTBOY
by nympsycho
Summary: After a routine scrap trip, Nux discovers a terrorized "rutboy", bringing him back to the Citadel. With the discovery of this new type of injustice, Furiosa sets her sights on true reformation of the territories, another war possibly on the horizon. There is a smaller reformation, though, in the young boy the Sisters and Nux now cared for. Violence and Rape Mentions throughout.
1. Scavenging

**Hello! So there will be some very sensitive material in this fic, mostly rape mention. It will never be explicit, but it is a major part of a characterization here. There will be blood mention, violence, and cruelty detailed in the first part of the fic in italics, but only referenced after that.**

 **If you're not familiar with my other fics, the setting is like this: Nux lives and is the leader of the War Boys, helping in the garage. Furiosa leads the Citadel. The Wives, now Sisters, have found their places in the Citadel. There will be some minor OCs to fill the gaps. Anything you need to know will be introduced to you, though, so no need to read my other ones :)**

 **Thanks for all the support from this lovely, tiny community. You're all precious cinnamon rolls.**

 _He was held down, his arms held behind his back, piercing, radiating pain from his nose. Pressure on his back now, too much, too heavy, an elbow, a knee. Laughter all around him, cheers, egging on. His face pressed to the ground with a hand much larger than he. The boy cried, pain stinging his back, his legs._

 _"You want to to talk back, boy?" a rough voice boomed from behind him. The hand moved to the boy's neck, turning his head upwards, bending his spine in a way it wasn't meant to._

 _The boy cried out in pain, only to have it silenced by the blood that rose in his throat. The crowd laughed, movement all around as the boy tried to focus. Pain, now all he felt, his throat unmoving, feeling blood pool and gurgle as he tried to speak._

 _He was flipped, blood trickling out of his mouth and onto his face, mixing with precious saliva. The boy's eyes widened as a large hand grabbed his crotch, painfully, rough, but he couldn't scream. Only a horrible gurgle. After a round of boisterous laughter the man released his groin, now straddling him, his large body intimidating and soaring. The boy felt close to darkness, not much older than eighteen but old enough to die here, right now. The man's hips crashed onto his neck, his knees keeping the boy's head straight._

 _He witnessed only a blur of movement before his vision cut. His mouth, he could feel, pain, stitched. He knew what was happening, but didn't believe it, didn't want to. He kept his eyes open as much as he could, knowing that if he welcomed the darkness his soul tugged towards he would be punished more when he woke again. They wouldn't kill him, they needed him too much.  
_

 _After an eternity, the man released the boy's head from between his knees, rising above him, the blood making the ground sticky. The boy hiccuped, the blood stuck in his throat choking him, breathing only from the sheer need to._

 _"You think twice, now," the man's voice crashed down once more. "before you speak."_

 _The boy was left to lay there, his blood pooling. His eyes closed, but not before noticing a figure approach him from the dispersing crowd. It crouched to him, gentle, slow, the movements blurring together. His gurgles unrecognizable as a human voice, he tried calling out to the entity that touched his face, fingers like tendrils from Valhalla. A voice called to him, muffled behind the piercing static he heard, behind the blood coursing in his ears. He heard only his heart beat, his choked breathing, before everything turned black._

* * *

The rule of Furiosa's Citadel was spreading widely, the other territories adopting new leadership as well. The Bullet Farm in particular granted a new leader into their ranks, unrelated to the previous: a man who went only by "Marcus". Furiosa had approved of his leadership, strong and valiant, yet fair. The three main territories got along in trade and in support, the Old Ways making way for the New.

Furiosa was a diplomat as much as she was Imperator, reaching out to the other territories. As far as she knew, all was well, social change happening all around the wasteland.

As far as she knew.

* * *

"Routine scrap trip!" Dignitary Nux called from the driver's seat of a Scavenger. Nux went on to be in charge of the War Boys, knowing they itched for adrenaline and the dust kicked up by their tires. He knew better than anybody the Boys' needs, often needing them himself.

Scrap trips were safe. They rarely resulted in any casualties, especially in the New World. No one attacked anyone over scrap; it was scrap, after all. There were always cars to find out in the wasteland, abandoned after a lack of guzzoline claimed them. Where their owners were, well, the Boys never liked to think about.

The engines roared to life, the catacomb garage bustling with the cheers and activity of Boys excited to fulfill their work. Though a job needed to be done, they made time to enjoy themselves, feel the purr of the engines they worshiped. As they cascaded through the desert, heading west towards the Bullet Farm, the Boys cheered, calling to each other, playing. It was like a game. They may have been War Boys, but they were just boys now. Boys with big toys.

Nux lead them, driving a vehicle specialized for savaging; it had a large capacity to store parts, but was agile, able to course through wreckage.

Nux's lancer bounced in the back, no guns attached to the car but he was armed on his person. He scanned the horizon, binoculars in hand. Spotting something, he slammed his fist on the hood of the car three times.

Nux looked up, feeling the memories of older times flood back. Back when Slit was his lancer. Now, it was Bones, named after his very deformed, very pronounced ribcage.

Bones called down to him, "Looks like a wreck, three vehicles, some kind of truck at least."

Nux nodded. Bones pointed his finger, his back hunched as it always was, towards the wreck. About fifteen degrees west. Nux turned the car, perhaps too dramatically, the other three cars following him.

As the wreck loomed in the distance, no sign of life or smoke or fire or struggle, Nux slowed down. He had to remind himself that this wasn't a raid, a fight. It was a routine scrap trip.

The Boys surrounded the wreck. It was three vehicles indeed, one truck and two cars. Plenty of metal to scrap. It was a good find.

Nux exited the vehicle, his pants heavy and his boots digging into the sand. He hadn't seen these types of vehicles before; the largest truck had a steel-covered cage attached to its cab, and the cars were rounder, less put together than more familiar vehicles. The extra material would go far in the shop.

"Let's get going," Nux announced, well received by his Boys. They jumped out, gathering their dismembering tools and, almost predatory, approached the wreck.

They started with the smaller cars. There hadn't been anyone in them, no bodies. Odd for a wreck to have missing drivers, but the boys didn't think to much on it, focused on what they could bring back to the Citadel. They chatted, screwed around. It was a good time.

Two Scavengers were loaded up, each car split among the vehicles. There were the useless remains left in the sand, left to the wasteland.

Two Boys began prying the cage off of the hull of the truck, the flat metal very valuable. They went at it with crowbars, wrenches... but the cage wouldn't budge. Nux jumped on top and, noticing a weak point and accompanied by the jesting cheers of his friends, pried the roof off of the cage with a crowbar.

Nux flew back into the desert sand with the hood, his friends laughing with him. He held up the piece of steel, the first clean slate they'd gotten in weeks, received by a whopping cheer. The other Boys went at dismembering the other sides of the cage, more difficult as it was soldered to the frame of the truck. They brought out their heavy duty cutters, sending them ablaze across the metal.

Nux leaned against the side of the box, watching.

Then he felt it. He couldn't hear it over the whirring of the cutter, but he felt it.

A tapping, a panicked rapping against his skin. Against the box.

"Stop!" Nux called out. The Boys listened, their leader knowing best.

It was quiet, then. Nux listened for more tapping, but there was none.

"Arm yourselves," Nux commanded, his words raspy and worried. The other boys didn't know what was going on, but listened, retrieving their guns from their holsters on their pants.

Nux knocked on the box, waiting for a response.

Nothing.

"Watch my back," he nodded towards his lancer especially, and wrapped his hand around the open rim of the box. He hauled himself up, unable to hold a gun. His feet still dangling, he peered into the box.

Skin.

It was dark inside the box, the sun not quite risen yet. They went out when it was cool, when there was the least chance of attack. But Nux definitely saw it- pale skin. An arm, wrapped around a leg, attached to a body.

"Are you alive?" he called down to the naked form, currently curled into a fetal position.

At the mention of another being in the box, the boys readied their guns. Nux looked to them, though, motioning to lower them.

Nux swung his legs over the edge of the box, uncomfortable. He noticed the being breathing, heavily and fearfully. It made no noise, though.

"We're not going to hurt you," Nux insisted. "We're just after this nice box, here. No need for blood where we're from."

The being moved now, first its arm moving to release its leg. Its legs stretched— the figure was a male. Nux noticed angry red scars and marks on the side of his body that he could see, scratches.

"It's alright, no one is going to—" Nux stopped short when the boy turned his head to look at him.

Thick black rubber had been laced through his lips, stitching his mouth shut. Where the rubber penetrated his skin was red, unhealed, painful. The boy stared up at Nux, his eyes wide, his chest trembling with fearful breath. Nux stared back, slightly disturbed by his face, but not enough to be scared. It took a lot to scare Nux.

"Hey, uh," Bones called up to Nux, "is someone in there?"

"Get me a rope, ladder, something," Nux replied, maintaining the pained eye contact with the boy.

Bones obliged, retrieving a makeshift ladder from one of the Scavengers. Nux sent it down to the boy, who made no motion towards it.

"You can come out," Nux encouraged. "No one here is gonna hurt you, we can help you. That looks like it hurts."

Nux had learned many things in the Citadel's New World. He learned from the Wives, now called the Sisters, from Furiosa, from himself. He had learned most prominently, though, of compassion through Capable. He'd felt firsthand how it impacted his meager half-life, how just a ray of tenderness had shone so brightly. He used it with his boys, he used it with Capable, he used it now, talking to this boy.

The boy made no sound, though he sat up slowly. He must be in pain, Nux thought, noticing the way his body swayed with the movement. He looked at the ladder, then up at Nux, then at himself. He moved to cover his groin.

"We've all seen a dick before," Nux joked, having seen the boy hesitant about exposing himself to him. "We all got one."

"Some more than others," one boy joked. The others laughed.

Nux shook his head. "Ignore them. They want to help, too."

The boy finally grabbed a rung of the ladder. He was unbound, but his arms and legs were stiff, hard to move. He had been in this box for a while. How had he not baked alive?

Nux offered his hand as the boy reached the top. His hair was matted, a long dusty brown that coursed past his eyes. He saw Nux's hand, looked up at him, and grabbed it.

Nux pulled him out, his scars and body now in full view of the War Boys. They tried not to gasp or gape, but couldn't help it. This was the last thing they'd expected to find on a scrap trip: a scarred up, mangled young boy.

The boy's feet hit the sand, his knees immediately collapsing. Nux reached under the boy's arms to support him, holding him up until he was steady. The boy made no noise, no groans, no cries, but he did look at Nux, the admiration in his eyes. His eyes were a deep brown, the gold catching in the now rising sun. Nux led him to his Scavenger, where he planted him in the passenger seat.

"We head back to the Citadel, top speed," Nux ordered, his voice still childlike but firm. At the words "Citadel", the boy's head snapped up, the most sudden movement he'd made yet. Nux took note.

They decided to come back for the cage later, if it was still around at all. But their new cargo was more important.

The boy stared in front of him, his eyes glazed over. Nux scanned his body, hunched over. His sides were adorned with small red "X"s, his arms unmarked. They were done in careful scarification; what did they mean? His throat sported the most gruesome gash, though. Nux knew whoever had cut him across his windpipe had not used stitches, the scar tissue pulling on thin skin.

"Can you speak?" Nux called out over his engine's roar.

The boy did not look at him.

Nux didn't try again.

Soon, the vehicles pulled back into the garage of the Citadel, arriving earlier than was planned due to their interruption. The other boys of the garage questioned, but occupied themselves on the scrap they'd found. The boys started to unload the Scavengers with Nux's direction, while he tried to coax the boy out of the car. He didn't move until Nux held his arm out, the boy weakly gripping it.

As he helped the boy to his feet, Nux noticed the rudimentary scars on the boy's chest, red and large. He didn't know what they meant, but he could read it clearly.

"RUTBOY"


	2. Help

**So this got a bit longer than expected but I hope you like it.**

 **WARNING: VERY GRAPHIC DEPICTIONS OF RAPE INVOLVED. IT WILL BE IN ITALICS.**

 **Thanks for reading. I know it's harder for darker fics to get support but I'm feeling the love! Thank you.**

* * *

Nux rushed the boy over to the hightower medical center, a small previously-storage room that hosted the only people with any medical knowledge at all: Remedy and her small team of reformed Wrecthed. Nux offered the boy linen pants, ones that most of the officials in the tower and beyond wore to bed. The boy wore them now, walking slowly with Nux, meeting the gazes of his fellow War Boys on his way out. Nux left Bones in charge.

Remedy saw him right away, shaking, too hot. First she noticed the painful stitching over his mouth, then the scars on his body. She'd been shocked, and it took a lot to shock Remedy, who dealt with the illnesses of the Wretched.

Upon making eye contact with her, though, the boy stopped shuffling into the curtained room. Nux tried to guide him in so Remedy could inspect him, but he planted himself in the opening of the curtains. His eyes wide, his breathing heavy, he tried to lurch backward, only to be blocked by Nux.

"She's the one who's gonna help you," Nux said, trying to ignore the bustling around them.

 _I thought you were going to help me._

Remedy maintained her steady gaze with the boy who was being pushed gently into the room. She made no attempt to comfort him, not sure how to really go about it considering she was just standing there in the first place. She struggled with being warm, the opposite of a true maternal figure, making a better doctor than midwife.

"Sit," Nux patted gently on the linen sheets that lined a small bed there, his words barely audible.

The boy did, shifting his weight from his aching legs. He appreciated it, though still bug-eyed at Remedy. She moved to touch his face, his mouth, when he snapped his head back, almost hitting the wall behind him.

"What are you doing?" Nux grabbed the back of the boy's head. At this, he began to breathe heavily again. Nux released him, Remedy backed away, and he was calm again.

Nux looked at Remedy, incredulous. What was the matter with him? He didn't seem to mind Nux touching him before.

"My name is Remedy," she said diplomatically, but not frigidly. "I'm here to help you, I can take some of your pain away."

The boy stared.

"I need you to let me help you, though," she reached up again, slowly, her movements obvious. The boy trembled, his throat bobbing as he swallowed saliva he didn't have, but let her touch him with Nux's amiable encouragement. She was gentle, skimming only the black rubber that laced his mouth. Someone had laced them through the skin of his lips, melting the ends together again to keep the boy from opening his mouth.

"I can remove these for you."

The boy seemed unfazed. Nux was confused. This boy, downtrodden as he was, seemed like he would have appreciated all the help he could get.

Remedy nodded to him, he remaining unblinking. She turned to retrieve her tools from a drawer, a soft thud following now as the drawer closed. She held a pair of scissors, making very slow movements that the boy followed carefully, and snipped one thick stitch between his lips. Another, another, another. The last one.

His lips parted now, he reached up to touch the space created from his open mouth, tongue to his finger now, seemingly amazed that he could do such a thing. The rubber still hung loosely in his skin.

Remedy began to remove the rubber with salvaged medical pliers, the skin having begun to attach itself to them. But it wasn't too far gone, only snagging as the thick rubber was extracted and set on a metal table beside them.

Nux turned to leave, not seeing a real reason to be there. He'd done his job, he was compassionate; Capable would be proud of him, he thought. But the boy lifted his hand weakly, plopping it against the bed below him. He tapped three times on it, catching Nux's attention. Tapping meant help would come.

So Nux stayed.

Remedy inspected the scar on his throat, then on his chest. It was a branding, similar to the Citadel crest that marked the back of her neck, but larger as it crossed the breadth of his chest.

"Rutboy," she said aloud.

The boy's eyes widened. His breathing hitched. He obviously didn't like the sound of it. Remedy apologized, choosing only to run her finger along the scars, then the "X"s on his side. He was visibly uncomfortable, as if she was touching his privates, but kept still. The boy tasted his lips again and again, his jaw opening and closing, something he seemed to not have done in a while. His teeth were in bad shape.

"I can't do anything more for him," Remedy confessed. "Get him some water and rest, a shower, and see how he does. He doesn't have any visible deformations, I don't deal with mental ones."

At the word "water", the boy's head jerked in the same way it had for "Citadel". There was no drinkable water in the makeshift doctor's office, after some distasteful members of the Wretched had stolen it one too many times.

Feeling the holes in his lips, disinfected and cleaned, the boy was led up a tall staircase to the residencies of the Dignitaries as well as the Sisters. Halfway through the climb the boy's legs gave out after a wiggle and followed by a thud, forcing Nux to carry him. The boy was younger than him, not by much, though he was much smaller. He must have been malnourished as a child. In his small stature he was easy to carry, his legs dangling, eyes scanning Nux's chest scars.

Reaching the main foyer of the bedrooms on the top floor of the hightower, he saw the soft silhouette of the Dag, unmistakable in her lean elegance. He pushed aside the curtain with his shoulder, her eyes meeting his, then the boy draped over Nux's arms. The boy shifted, seeing the Dag, his eyes wide. His breathing hitched once more, nervous.

"Get him some water," Nux asked. The Dag nodded, wispy in nature, and glided to the small reservoir they shared. As she gathered a cup for him, Nux moved the boy to his and Capable's bedroom, not sure where else to keep him. He lay him on his bed, making sure his head was propped up on a pillow. Capable had done the same with him when he first received treatment from Remedy, for his own illness.

The Dag followed shortly after, distressing the boy once more. Though she held a glass of obviously much needed clean water, he struggled away from her, pushing blankets out of the way. Nux grabbed his shoulders to steady him, though he never stopped staring, wide-eyed at the very unassuming Dag.

"What a strange, beautiful creature..." she murmured. "What happened to you?"

With her voice, his breathing began to settle slightly. Nux noticed, though, grabbing the water from Dag's slender hand. She moved down then, on her knees, to meet his gaze closely.

"A precious child," she continued. The boy, still visibly stressed, his fists clenching the blankets and his brow furrowed, stopped moving from her. "What cruelty you must know.

Nux offered the glass to him, obviously a powerful motivation, for he broke his gaze with the Dag to grab the glass and close his eyes, letting the water flow down this dry, unused throat.

"Slowly, now, or it'll come back up," Nux had known this feeling all too well after finally receiving his water ration after a week of running on empty. He was addicted to water, so terribly addicted.

The boy looked up to Nux and did slow down. He understood what those around him said, he just never responded in words. Nux didn't know if he couldn't, or didn't.

The Dag reached out to rest her hand on the pillow his head delved into. The boy choked on his water now, surprised and scared.

 _Blood, filling my throat. I'm going to die, I should die. How can I live like this?_

Nux took the glass from him, concerned, as the boy flinched. He coughed, the noise extremely unpleasant, not like a normal cough. It gurgled, it was pained. Nux's gut hurt hearing such a tortuous noise, and placed his hand on his back. He hadn't heard a cough like that, even from the boys of the engine room where fumes had embedded deep in their lungs and came back up as black sludge.

"It's okay," the Dag droned, her voice as soft as silk from days passed, "I won't hurt you."

For anyone to assume that the Dag would hurt them was ridiculous to Nux. Her ethereal, maternal presence did nothing but confuse people as she would often singsong unrelated input or observations. But the boy was fearful, very, though he grabbed the glass again and drank, his eyes glued to the Dag's slim hand.

Her voice did seem to have a very calming effect on him, seeming to negate the fear he felt around her presence.

"Did you do anything to him? In the Before times?" Nux looked up to the Dag now, astonished by his accusation.

"I've never seen this boy in my life."

Nux turned away from the boy again to try and find more clothes for him, to cover the branding on his chest, Dag's answer making sense. He didn't see the boy finish his water, some escaping from the holes that dotted his lips, looking towards Nux for more. The Dag did, though, but was interested to see that the boy had reached from the bed, gripping Nux's pants. Nux stopped, feeling three soft tugs on his pants.

 _Tapping brings him to me._

Nux noticed how far the boy had suspended his body to grab him, and grabbed the boy's hand to keep him from falling in his weakened state. Nux felt a strange rush course his way through his gut, warm and tense. In guiding the boy back to his bed, holding his neck so his head didn't wilt, Nux feels the wave center, pull, tug three times.

"Can you get him more water?" Nux held the cup up to the Dag. His brown eyes seemed to regain life with the water. Nux wondered if all he needed was to be watered. He had seemed fine aside from the scars and his behavior, and as Remedy said, he had no growths or tumors like the other boys that inhabited the Citadel.

The Dag returned with the water, and also a small plate of strawberries. Nux learned he really enjoyed "strawberries" after the Dag had insisted he try one from the garden she fostered. This time, the boy was calm, leaning back down into Nux's bed. He laid on Nux's side.

"These are called strawberries," Nux held one of the berries up to the boy's face. "They taste real good. Do you wanna try one?"

The boy's eyes remained glued on the water.

Nux smiled. "Moved too quickly, I guess. Leave 'em on the table."

After another glass of water, Nux sitting on the edge of the bed, the boy had allowed Dag to touch his hand, his face, but not his chest. He seemed comfortable with her now as she mumbled sweetness into his skin. His eyes were as soft as her voice.

Nux was happy to see him relax around the Dag. It meant he felt safe there, under Nux's blankets.

The rush returned.

Three tugs.

He breathed out, holding in a breath he didn't know he had held in.

Dag stood now, the boy's eyes following her. He made no attempt to touch her, but did blink slowly after she announced she had to tend to the garden, and left. Nux and the boy shared silence.

"Do you have a name?" Nux offered, moving to sit closer to him so he could speak softly. The boy seemed to like it.

Nothing. Just a soft stare.

"Did you like the water?" Nux grinned slightly, barely noticeable.

The boy nodded three times.

He definitely understood Nux. He just didn't know how to respond.

"You can talk to me," Nux urged. "I wanna know your name."

The boy raised his hand, shaky still, resting it against Nux's knee. After stopping there, he moved it again, raising his head now, and traced the red, angry scar that embedded deep into the skin of his throat.

Nux's mouth lay agape. "You... you can't?"

The boy nodded.

The rush returned to Nux, starting in his chest, angry now. "Who did that to you?"

No response.

He couldn't respond.

Of course not.

Nux breathed deeply, raising a careful hand to run his fingers along the scar. Whoever had done this to him must have also mutilated the rest of him. He was furious, his rage kept inside so as to not scare the boy, but frightened Nux instead. He'd seen his own boys mutilate themselves, their brothers- hell, he'd scarred himself. Why was he so angry at the scars that littered the boy's skin?

A knock came to the door, startling the both of them. They had taken advantage of the mutual silence.

Nux got up from the bed, announced his inevitable return, and left the room, talking to whoever had knocked. The door closed with a soft click.

The boy tapped the mattress below three times before his eyes closed, peaceful for the first time that he could remember.

* * *

 _The metal columns dug into his arms, stretched out from his sides, his wrists chained to beams in the ceiling. A crucifixion._

 _His legs were spread as he stood on the cold floor, so cold, unfeeling, yet so hot with the blood of others. It burned his soles. The bracer between his legs, affixed to his ankles, was a tad too wide, making him almost dangle from the metal columns and forcing him to stand on his toes to avoid the pain in his underarms. His mouth was muzzled, a cage surrounding his already sewn mouth; it smelled like rust and spit. Rabid._

 _He breathed heavily, the large man towering over him, his chest wider than his whole being. The man reached down to disengage the metal chastity that bound him, a rush of relief following for a brief moment before the man grabbed it in his rough hand. He wanted to cry out, but no sound came out. It never did. Doomed to silence. Think twice._

 _Crying now, from a woman in the distance. The boy knew what was to come, what he was going to do. He squeezed his eyes shut, wanting to close off his ears from the dreadful pleas and screams of the woman who was coming closer to him now._

 _"What a degenerate," the man boomed from above him, "getting hard from the hand of a man."_

 _He felt the man's spit splatter against his roasting forehead. It dripped, mingling with the strands of hair that stung his eyes, his eyebrows. He wanted to cry, but he had learned his lesson the first time he did so._

 _The woman was there now, seeing him, crying harder. She was a virgin, she cried. There were others, she pleaded. Spare me, please. Anyone else._

 _She was bent over by rippling arms and strung up in restraints, forcing her legs to be spread, her back bent, her head hanging. She cried. She cried so loudly._

 _He'd never forget the sound._

 _She was gored, his cleaver so hot and full despite his greatest desire for it not to be. She cried again, then again as he was pulled back at the hips by large hands, then again as he was thrust forward. She was quiet now, broken, silenced. The boy still cried though, inside, damned to eternal silence even in Valhalla._

 _"Hurry up, boy," the man thundered. "I'm getting tired."_

 _He was nervous though, his skewer feeling hot from the woman bleeding fire around it. Her head hung weakly, bobbing with each thrust. He needed to badly to apologize. He needed so badly to escape._

 _Soon, though, he couldn't take it any more, his primal desires overcoming his morality. He knew this feeling well, one he hated, feeling his humanity slip from him as he expelled. The man had dragged his hips out from the woman as he disgorged._

 _"Stupid fuck!" he called, rushing to the front of the boy. He scooped up the boy's inkling, breathing heavily, and stuffed it into her, rough, quickly. She cried again, her head picking up. He did it again, the scrape of fingernails against concrete, keeping his fingers inside until he was satisfied they would implant._

 _"You better hope that works, boy," the man growled. The boy's eyes looked only towards the woman, his cock going soft. He was thankful. He'd be put back into chastity, guaranteeing a quick release for next time, but at least he wasn't expected to do this any longer._

 _The woman was released from her bondage, falling to the ground before she was roughly dragged up by stone arms, dragging her along the concrete as they took her away from him. He never knew where they went. They always looked the same, though, like rag dolls from times passed with red wounds on their knees, legs.  
_

 _Soon he, too, was released, the man grabbing his upper arm and pulling him towards his bunk. He yearned for it, to curl up and forget. Forget what he never could._

 _"Try pulling that shit again and I'll cut it clean off," the man scolded before he slammed the metal door behind him._

 _The boy knew he wouldn't._

 _They needed it. It was all they needed from him, all he was good for._

* * *

The boy woke with a start. He breathed heavy, his chest heaving, the woman's cries pushing him down into the bed below him as he crashed down into it. He felt himself heave forward, fighting off the pressure, the memories. It wasn't his bunk, he remembered then. He remembered what he couldn't forget.

A strong pair of arms pinned him down, shocking him and scaring him. Though... a soft shushing began to drown out the cries, the pleasing cushion of the noise buffing him from the harshness of his mind like white noise.

He opened his eyes to find Nux hovering over him, concerned, shushing, his thumbs rubbing his shoulders. Capable had done the same for him many nights as he woke with the fevers. The boy settled, his breathing slowing, his pupils growing. Comfort. Back to the comfortable place. With Nux.

"It's okay," Nux comforted, his voice soothing like the cool blankets around his arms, "I get nightmares too."

The boy leaned back down into the bed. Then, from the corner of his eye, he saw her.

Her hair red as fire, her eyes green as the places he'd dream of.

The prominent features of her face twisted in concern.

He stared only a moment before the panic set in.

"He gets like this around women," Nux explained, sitting next to the boy and forcing his shaking head into his shoulder.

Capable nodded. "I can leave."

"No. He got used to Dag, you just need to talk to him and touch him."

"Touch him? Look at him, he can barely look at me."

"Just try it."

Capable moved closer to the boy, his body tensing more and more. He felt restricted by Nux's arms, his head squeezed.

 _A metal cage around his face._

He panicked heavily now, releasing painful sounds from his severed throat. Nux released him after his struggle became too much, his noises disturbing.

 _Bondage released._

He flung himself out of bed, almost kicking Nux in the process. Realizing he was only getting closer to Capable, he scrambled back, the back of his knees buckling into the mattress and forcing him to fall back. He scrambled into the blankets, quick, get away, get away, quick.

He curled into a fetal position similar to the one Nux had found him in.

"I'm sorry," Nux said. Capable was shocked at him calmness, the compassion in his voice. "I shouldn't have held you like that." She'd said this to him before as he got too hot, the fevers too much, to bear someone holding him even in comfort.

No movement.

"What happened to him?" Capable stayed firmly planted in her position, not wanting to aggravate the problem. She was astonished by the boy in front of her; he was so... damaged, it seemed. The poor thing, so small and fragile.

"We don't know. He's got all these scars on him, big branded one on his chest, but he doesn't like when we bring it up," Nux explained. Capable looked at the boy who scattered the blankets in all which way around the bed. The pillow had ended up by her feet.

She bent to pick it up. "Capable, just talk to him. He totally once-over'd with Dag."

She sighed. She wasn't like the Dag, though. She was tender, but she wasn't wistful, she wasn't ultra-feminine. In her time with the Pups, she had thickened; her muscles adapted to the rough games they played, carrying them, throwing them and catching them. Her thighs touched, her arms toned. Dag was thin, ethereal, like she could blow away in the desert wind with her outlandish words.

"Trust me."

Her gaze shot to him, his arm cradled over the fleshy mass on the bed. The words squeezed her chest. She did trust him. She trusted him so heavily, it wasn't safe. She'd trusted before, and it was betrayed. She risked her life for Nux every day, trusting him.

She nodded.

"Hello," she put on her best breathy, lovely voice, sweet. "My name is Capable. I'm um, I'm with Nux, and you seem to like him..."

Nux nodded, encouraging.

"I work with the war Pups down in the bunks. They're like, young boys that we used to raise to be War Boys, but now that there's little need for battle fodder..." Capable smiled, moving closer to the boy. "Well, they just like to play now. I think you'd like to watch them, Nux does."

Capable wasn't blind to the way Nux stroked the boy's head like she had stroked his lips, or the way his arm lay lightly over the emaciated curves of the boy, his thumb moving in little circles through the boy's trembling muscles. It captivated her. It had taken so long for her to receive an affection even similar to this; Furiosa had been in power for two years now, and only one of those she and Nux had been intimate. Now, this boy was the product of all he'd picked up from her, little circles.

The boy simmered, the heat of his body cooling, little circles.

"You met Dag, um, she's really great. She takes care of plants. She grows most of our food, growing our inventory there. There's the other Sisters... have you met them?"

Nux nodded no, answering for the boy whose hands now reached up to Nux's.

"Ah, well um, there's Toast. And Cheedo. There's Furiosa, she's like our sister... well, none of us are actually sisters and it's more of a..."

The young boy's head reared, allowing him to look up to her with parted lips. She was still uncomfortable seeing the holes in his face, despite studying his face as he slept. He was so pure beside them, his skin unmarked by the sun, pale.

"Hi," she peeped. She wasn't sure how to handle the boy's brown eyes on hers, unmoving, unblinking. She smiled a sheepish smile, Nux following her, and the boy looked away. He was breathing normally now. His dirty hair fell in front of his face.

"You should bathe him," she suggested. He was sandblasted, his young skin dirty but plump.

"Do you want to clean up?" Nux offered to the boy. No response. "Take a shower? A bath?"

At "bath" he perked. His throat bobbed again. He knew what it was. Then, a slow nod to Nux.

"You should take a shower instead. Have you ever seen one? A shower?" Capable asked.

The boy looked to her now. She was pained by the force in his stare. He shook his head. She knew he couldn't speak, courtesy of Nux's careful, doting reporting of the boy. She noticed the attention he paid, so close. Unlike him, but pleasing.

"They're so shiny," Nux said with excitement. The boy didn't react, probably unsure what Nux's slang meant. "They're warm, but not like the wasteland. They clean you better than a bath, it's real nice. I promise. I'll show you, come on."

The boy understood Nux, following him as he shuffled off the bed. Nux stood next to Capable, watching the boy steady on his feet. He held onto the edge of the bed, getting a feel for walking, only to realize Nux was so close to Capable and stopped. He was nervous again.

"It's alright," Nux encouraged. He wrapped his hand around Capable's waist. The boy's eyes followed his hand, then stepped towards the pair. He was close to Capable now, his breathing steady with great effort. But he could do it.

She stared at his chest now, the branding visible when it wasn't before.

"RUTBOY"

What did that mean? She knew what rutting was, but did it...? It couldn't mean that. It must be some slang for something else where he's from. It didn't make sense.

The boy followed Nux out of the bedroom and into their bathroom. Capable was moved by the boy's progress, just her voice calming him. She changed the sheets, hearing commotion in the foyer behind her. Doors opening, almost slamming.

"Where is he?" a familiar voice called from the hall.

"Nux and Capable's room," the soft voice of the Dag responded.

Capable opened the door, knowing Furiosa would be entering anyway. The two looked at her, Furiosa diplomatic and the Dag curious.

"Can I see him?" Furiosa approached her, her complete garb on. She had come for business.

"He's in the shower," she responded. Why was she so worried?

"Nux?"

"He's with him."

Furiosa shot her a confused look.

"The kid can barely hold himself up on two feet, he needed help."

Furiosa nodded.

"It was very commendable of Nux to rescue him," Furiosa's commanding voice now soft, friendly. "From what I hear from Remedy and Dag... he's in rough shape."

"He's... traumatized. From what, I have no idea."

"That's what I'm here for."

Capable tilted her head. Furiosa started to head into the room, Capable moving to the side.

"I've got word from Marcus of the Bullet Factory," she began to explain, "that there was missing 'cargo' from his last 'bullet shipment'." She spat, obviously stressed.

Cargo?

"The boy..." Capable breathed,

"He seemed very... passionate, about the 'cargo' in the wreck that Nux and his boys scrapped. He made it sound like the steel that Nux brought back, but they didn't take all of it, not even close. Not enough to request diplomatic discourse."

"What's that?"

"Big 'Immortan Joe' words for 'you took something that wasn't yours, give it back'. You can start it over anything, including scrap, but it's just improbable. I wanted to see him, to see what this 'cargo' might look like, after Dag heard me talking to my advisers about it," Furiosa looked visibly agitated. She'd been upset by the idea of human cargo.

"He doesn't like women," Capable said, the sound of the shower water plopping against the tub floor still prominent in the bedroom.

"The Dag went on and on about how sweet he was to her."

"He doesn't like to be around women. He's fine with Nux, and when the Dag and I spoke to him, calmed him down, he seemed better. But he panics, he gets so scared."

Furiosa looked down. She knew those symptoms, she'd experienced and seen them herself.

"Remedy told me about his scars," Furiosa confirmed. "I think you and I both know what a 'rutboy' is by now."

Capable hadn't wanted to believe it, considering it was so improbable, but she had to consider the thought.

"Why would the Bullet Farm need men to... rut?" the word tasted ill in her mouth. "There's plenty of men, just not enough women."

"That's what I'd like to investigate," Furiosa looked out the window of the bedroom, small but with a clear view west.

"We can all help," Capable offered.

"I need to prove it. I need him to confirm our suspicions. Without confirmation, Marcus will just take him and claim property advantage, we'll never see him again. If he tells us what happened to him, we can look into whatever is going on over there, and we can stop it."

"He can't talk. His throat's been cut. He screams and nothing comes out," she said, remembering the way he had "screamed" as he thrashed his way out of the nightmare.

Furiosa turned, incredulous at Capable's words.

"Great," her jaw clenched.

"He can nod, though. But I think he's just afraid right now."

Furiosa and Capable both heard the shower's water stop, the pattering coming to a halt. Nux chuckled something, his words muffled, but Furiosa knew it was time to leave.

"Then make him not afraid. See how he communicates. I'm keeping him a secret, do not let anyone other than Remedy or the sisters know about him," Furiosa stepped close to Capable, her gaze strong, letting Capable know that she meant nothing but ultimate seriousness.

Capable nodded, understanding.

"I know you can do it."

Furiosa left, the door closing behind her. Capable considered following her, but decided against it.

"See how he communicates"? How was she supposed to do that? The kid could barely stand the sight of her, how was she supposed to handle getting some sort of explanation out of him?

The duo emerged from the bathroom, both in bath towels hanging low on their hips. The boy gazed at Capable, unafraid, his skin dewy. She was comforted by that, maybe it would be easier than she thought to get some answers out of him.

When she looked down at his chest, he noticed, and plucked the towel from his waist to cover the branded scar.

Maybe not.


	3. Little Circles

**Hello! Some warnings for this chapter:**

 **Graphic depictions of degradation (marked in italics)**

 **Car violence/battle**

 **Kidnapping**

 **I hope you enjoy! Some paternal/maternal cuteness to be found within the mess that is my imagination. Thanks for all the support.**

Nux's fingers trailed the boy's lips, his tongue darting out to follow the red trail they left. It was sweet, something the boy had never tasted or felt before.

"See? They're good," Nux withdrew his hand. The boy's lips felt cold now.

The plate with mashed strawberry was placed back on the bedside table. The boy kept licking his lips, the sensation still new.

"We should get him some real food," Capable suggested. Her chest still felt heavy seeing Nux help the boy try strawberries, though she didn't know why.

"It'll be hard for him to eat, with his teeth and his lips like that," Nux wiped his fingers.

"Ask Cheedo," Capable into the pillows next to the boy, stretching her legs, "she knows a lot more about that kind of thing."

Nux nodded, still watching the boy with curiosity. Despite never having spoken to him, Nux felt like the boy had told him the world.

Nux left to find Cheedo, who would either be in the kitchen or studying something, somewhere. She'd loved to read, she loved the books the Citadel had kept. Nux wished he could read better when she exploded with information excitedly she learned just from reading; Capable was teaching him, but it would be a slow process.

Capable and the boy filled the room with silence until the blankets ruffled with small movement; the boy raised his hand from the bed. He patted the bed three times, looking towards the door, his brown eyes unblinking. Capable watched him, confused, until the boy looked back down towards his feet.

"He'll be back," Capable uttered. She had to be very soft, just like she had to be with Nux.

The boy looked at her now, his drying hair bouncing from his forehead. He pursed his lips, slightly painful due to the wounds there, and scanned her person with furrowed brows. He was inspecting her, she concluded. It wasn't sexual in any means, purely curiosity, as she crossed her legs, laying on her side.

Unexpectedly, he reached up to touch her hair. Slowly, carefully, never breaking his gaze with the redness on top of her head, he brushed one recently-undone braid that dangled from her face. She smiled, feeling her throat tighten and her eyes sting. Why was she getting so emotional over this?

"You can touch," she encouraged when he slowed tentatively.

He grazed her face, her lips, and amusingly, her eyebrows. She'd giggled, causing him to jump, but he settled once he realized she wasn't yelling or scolding. He dropped his hand from her face, letting it bounce on the bed before settling.

"Can I touch you?" she asked.

He made no movement for a while, and neither did Capable. They just shared eye contact, something the boy seemed to be very fond of.

 _I've never seen their faces so pleasant._

The boy then nodded slowly, his hair catching in the fabric of the pillow. Capable's lips twitched upward as she raised her hand slowly, then rested it over his.

 _So warm._

Capable trailed his arm up to his bare shoulders. She was getting close to his chest. Maybe if he let her explore it, she could get some answers for Furiosa. She could help him.

She considered just telling him what she needed from him, but decided against that when she realized the boy would probably just shut down. He'd barely been able to handle the presence of women, how was he supposed to handle the prospect that he might be returned back from where he came?

His shoulder scrunched at her touch, but after Capable sent soft words to him, he relaxed. She followed his neck, to his face. For the first time she'd seen, he closed his eyes at her touch, still breathing well and with no signs of anxiety. She was happy to see how much he improved; maybe all he needed was just some tender love and care.

He let her skim her hand over his wounds, not feeling pain. He opened his eyes when she cupped his face with the palm of her hand. He felt things he'd never felt before, though he couldn't quite identify them. They felt good, he decided, and let her keep touching him.

Her hand trailed to his collarbone, her eyes latched onto his to sense any change in his disposition. His brows furrowed when she neared closer to his chest, her pinky skimming the scar there just barely. He then moved back from her, his eyes blinking quickly. She dropped her hand.

"I'm not going to hurt you," she comforted. "You're safe here. We want to help, but you have to let us."

The boy didn't quite understand how Capable seeing his scars would help him. He remained doubtful, the sheets still covering his scars.

"Did you see Nux's scars? On his chest?"

With the mention of Nux he perked. Her heart fluttered.

"It's an engine, he tells me. He's real proud of it, though, he'll tell you all about how he got it. It's a thing for the War Boys. Are scars a thing where you're from?"

The boy remained unmoving. He listened intently, though.

"Scars are powerful. They mean you've gone through pain to get them, to come out on the other side of it only marked on your skin."

The boy looked around, trying to understand what she was saying to him.

"Your scars are deeper though, aren't they?"

The boy shot his eyes back to Capable's. She swallowed. Was he understanding what she was trying to say?

He moved his head to look down at his chest, his eyes weary. He held the sheet taut, looking back at Capable, conflicted.

 _She won't hurt me, she said._

He lowered the sheet to rest on his hips.

Capable smiled. She was getting somewhere. He was obviously a very receptive boy, so emotional. Of course he would be, Capable thought, he would be emotional.

She reached out to his chest, her slim fingers just trailing the rectangular branding across his chest. She noticed then, the metal that must have branded him cut across his nipples, only a scarred marring remaining.

RUTBOY.

The words she read bounced around her head, knowing full well what a rutboy was. This poor boy, this poor thing. She caressed the scars now, running her hand down to the six "X"s that littered his side. More branding. Poor thing.

She wanted to share her experiences with Immortan Joe, to feel closer to the boy and hopefully gain some trust from him. She stopped herself, though, not wanting to bring up the subject just yet. He was too sensitive right now.

"You know, Nux has deeper scars, too," Capable said gently. "He has to heal them one day at a time."

The boy felt her hands trailing him, the dirty feeling he would feel from this sort of thing thankfully absent.

* * *

 _"This one's good," the big man boasted. "Real virile."_

 _The other man's hand skimmed his chest, his scars, counting the X's._

 _"Six, huh?" the other man was impressed. "Out of how many?"_

 _"Eight. And that's only because the bitches squirmed too much before they popped out."_

 _The other man nodded approvingly._

 _"How much?"_

 _"One tanker of guzzoline."_

 _The other man was astonished. The boy watched them both carefully, the other man's hand still on his chest. He felt dirty where his hands went, like there had been blood on them._

 _There was._

 _"That's a lot to ask for one measly rutboy."_

 _"But he's a good one. He'll keep going and going, so long as you keep his dick locked up when you ain't usin' him. He's young."_

 _The other man considered. The chastity the boy wore always bore into his skin, painful, uncomfortable, but it was especially bad now. He tried not to think about it, the heavy metal pushing his skin taut._

 _"Yeah, alright. I'll do it."_

 _The big man grinned, the other man shaking his hand. The other man thudded his palm against the boy's rib cage, his body swinging as his arms were raised above his head. He felt the man's hand leave his chest, thankful, and his arms released from the ceiling. They were secured behind his back, now, the big man pushing him forward._

 _"You're going on the next shipment," he growled. "No funny business."_

 _He was going to leave this place? He didn't want to think of what the other place was like, but somewhere deep inside him hoped it would be better, he would be better._

 _The dark box he was secured inside gave no comfort._

* * *

He remained relaxed, having his scars touched, hearing Nux's name. He wished he could speak, could answer her. He was powerless.

 _Think twice._

The memories flooded him again then, his breath going short and his eyes watering.

 _Don't cry. You know what happens when you cry._

He cried out then, noiseless but breathy. He'd tried so hard, he wanted to badly to try, he wanted to feel this woman touch his scars, a desire he'd never had before. The pressure built up behind his eyes, his throat closed more and more.

And he cried.

Capable removed her hand from his scars to wipe the tears from his face, her thumb cool against his now hot skin.

He flinched, his eyes shooting open at her touch.

 _His hands, rough, my face, hitting, beating. I cry still, crying is all I can do now._

But she didn't hit or slap, she cupped his face, her hands soft and smooth.

He kept his eyes open, more tears welling.

"It's okay to cry," Capable said. "I'll stop if you want."

The boy remained unmoving. He closed his eyes again, squinting, trying to push the images out of his head. _Women like this, like the one touching him and the blonde that talked to him... the things he'd done to them. The cries they gave, the blood from the scraped skin on their knees._

He reached up quickly, the quickest moment Capable had seen, and grabbed her wrist. It was weak, but it was a definite answer.

 _Stay._

The boy was cuddled against her now, his crying absorbed by the linen dress she wore. She wrapped one arm around him, the other on his chest. He made sickly noises, trying to make meaningful noise as his tears fell, but no words came out.

Poor thing.

She stroked his hair, feeling the strange sensation of it when she was so used to a shaved head there. He cried, shaking, trembling, pushing himself into Capable.

 _I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry._

The door opened then, the pair's bodies remaining unmoved. Capable's eyes snapped to Nux who appeared from the door, shocked and with furrowed brows. He parted his lips to ask a question, but sealed them again. He knew.

He'd been there, too.

Nux stepped towards them, the cup he held set on a table, and just watched. He felt the strange feeling wash over him again. Three tugs. Quick, soft.

The boy knew Nux was there. He wanted to see him, to have him touch him again. He kept his head snuggled in Capable's chest though, her warmth comforting.

Nux sat on the bed by the boy, keeping his eyes on the boy's face. His eyes were closed, wetness still secreting from the pained slits. Nux rested his hand on the boy's side, hot, wet. The boy calmed more, then, the tears relenting as Nux made little circles with his thumb like he had before.

Little circles.

Nux and Capable made eye contact. The rush that accompanied was unexplainable, feeling warm in their bellies. They smiled twitchy smiles, knowing that the feeling they had was shared. The boy was quiet now, exhausted, having cried for the first time unpunished. She felt him go limp on her chest, his head heavier. She sighed.

"You're amazing," Capable remarked.

Nux smiled wider at that. "So are you."

They shared that moment, the boy now at peace, Capable's hand still feeling the bumped edges of the boy's branding.

* * *

"So what was that thing called?" Nux asked Cheedo who whirred around the kitchen.

"A smoothie," she smiled. "You put some fruit or stuff in a bowl, and you pulverize it, and it makes it like a soup that you can drink."

Nux nodded. "He liked it, it's easy for him to eat."

Cheedo ginned widely at that. "How is he doing now?"

"He's able to move more, he can walk around and likes to touch stuff."

"Well aren't you a good daddy?" Cheedo joked.

Daddy.

Nux's mouth turned up into a smile, not unnoticed by Cheedo. "Oh, wow," she giggled.

"Hm?"

"You like that, being a dad."

"I'm not his dad," Nux's smile was concealed now. "I'm just taking care of him. No one else will."

"Yeah, sure. Comforting him when he wakes with nightmares, feeding him... totally not his dad," she chided lightheartedly. How had she known about that? Damn gossip.

"I'm not his dad, Cheedo. I'm just taking care of him."

"Repeating it won't make it any more true, you'll just lie to yourself more."

Nux was silent then.

"Didn't know you had a paternal side, is all," she said quietly, inspecting some wheat that Dag had grown.

Paternal. The word rang through Nux's body, settling in his gut.

Three tugs.

He realized then, that he was too far in this to deny anything anymore.

* * *

The boy took well to getting a haircut, Capable's soft movements making it easy. He was thankful to have his eyes free, no hair to sting them as he tossed and turned in bed.

"We could go down to see the Pups today, if you want," she offered, clipping the last of his long hair. His head felt lighter, now.

The boy made no movement. He barely ever did to any question that couldn't be answered with a yes or a no.

After the haircut, they went. The boy liked watching the younger boys play with Capable, the warm sand underneath him feeling forgiving compared to cold concrete.

* * *

There was to be another scrap trip, routine and easy. They were to drive only scavengers, the other cars were still in the shop. Nux supped up the scavengers, the wrench in his hand greasy. The boys under him cheered, it was time to have some fun.

Guzzoline was precious, but under the guise of a mission, they took full advantage of the heady horsepower their vehicles offered.

Nux thought back to the last scrap trip, the day he'd discovered the boy.

He realized he still didn't have a name.

The fact tugged on his gut, a feeling to be dealt with later. Now, he had to lead his team on the trip. They were rowdy, antsy after not having felt the adrenaline they'd become to accustomed to. Nux knew the feeling well. Though, now, he felt it dampened. He didn't feel the need to go; he felt it was necessary for the Citadel, but not for him. The feeling worried him.

They cast out, the engines revving and gears shifting. The Pups looked on, their playtime just beginning. They cheered as well, a small dot of red in the crowd of young boys.

Nux smiled, turning his head to the horizon in front of him.

They drove, whizzing past each other, tempting, playing, mocking. The boys joked over the screams of their engines, pea-cocking and outdoing each other. Nux and Bones stayed focused, Bones scanning the horizon for any sign of a wreck.

He didn't see a wreck, but he saw a pod of three vehicles pummeling towards them.

"Nux!" he called. Nux anticipated Bone's accurate point to guide him towards the scrap, but was met with his worried face.

"Three moving vehicles, Gas Town's! Heading towards the Citadel!"

Nux's mood switched from one of amusement to concern. Why were People Eater's, well, their new leader's, men coming to the Citadel? Nux knew every trade route and schedule, there was nothing planned for today.

"What kinds?"

"Uh," Bones looked through his binoculars again. They were too far from home now to have anyone from the Citadel see them. "Three gunners, das it."

Gunners? Why would gunners be headed to the Citadel?

"Uh, yeah, they're definitely coming for us," Bones watched as the vehicles turned ninety degrees, moving towards them now.

"Tell the boys to get on offensive," Nux called. He gripped the wheel, not sure what he was getting into, but he knew he needed to guide them away from the Citadel, if they were following him. He turned sharply right, the other vehicles following.

Bones shouted orders, the need to get armed, everything they got because there were fighters after them. They must think they had scrap they could steal off of them or something. But why such heavily artillery?

The vehicles neared the Scavengers now, much faster and larger than them. The boys heard their engines from behind them, craning their heads to see the funny business. Two men were perched on top of each fighter, machine guns at the ready.

The first shot.

Nux heard it, looking behind him to see one tire shot out from one of the four scavengers. He was worried, now but more angry. What did they want?

The other scavengers' boys readied their arms, firing them at the men that now started to surround them. The main vehicle remained behind them, the two men on top now dead but with a driver still going strong. The other two went around Nux's team, one on each side. Reacher tactics.

Gunshots riddled the vehicles' hulls, two War Boys down now. The shooters were killed on all vehicles, the guns still hissing. The drivers reached out of their windows now, armed with pistols, shooting at the three of Nux's drivers that were left. Their vehicles careened into the sand, tumbling with death. Now all that remained was Bones and Nux. Bones shot his pistol at the driver to his left, killing him, but avoided the bullet of the right's narrowly. He turned to him, death in his eyes, shooting the pistol. It missed. Out of ammo, he screamed at Nux for his. Nux reached into his pants to retrieve his gun, handing it to Bones through the sunroof with fumbling hands. He fired again, hitting the tire and forcing the men to abandon the vehicle, pursuing on foot.

The driver careened the vehicle towards Nux's, ramming him. Bones grabbed onto the hull for stability, but with another powerful ramming, he fell to the sand and was met with the tires of the vehicle behind them. Nux spun out, but quickly regained his place. They didn't shoot any longer.

Nux was confused as he sped top speed away from the pursuit vehicles. They didn't want to kill him, or they'd be shooting. His sweat stung his eyes, sand scraping his skin. He hadn't prepared for or anticipated a battle.

He felt his front left tire blow with a gunshot, then his back right. He spun, the acceleration bunk now that his tires were gone. He was forced to stop, panicked, unarmed.

The vehicles stopped with him. Their engines still hummed, churning though there was no movement. Nux scrambled out of his car, his boots digging into the sand, almost falling. His breath was heavy, his legs weak. He'd been fearless as he zoomed along the Fury Road, now stripped of his metal shield as it puttered in the sand.

A man exited the driver's side of the vehicle behind him, his garb undeniably People Eater's. What did they want?

The other drivers exited, guns in their hands, their faces covered.

"Where is the cargo?" the biggest one boomed from under his mask.

Cargo?

"What are you talking about?" Nux turned to face them, the men easily shadowing him.

The men rushed him now, Nux scrambling as he was pushed into the sand. His teeth cracked with the force of a gun's barrel thrust into his mouth. He shouted into the gun, his head being held forcefully by a large, gloved hand.

One of them men removed his mask. It was bulbous, marked with tumors and various baubles.

"You are Nux of the Citadel?" the man boomed. The gun's barrel dug into the back of Nux's throat.

He nodded as much as he could, scared, the gun feeling hot and tasting like gunpowder.

"You have our cargo, then," the man continued, Nux's legs stinging as the other men pinned him down with their knees.

He shook his head quickly. Cargo?

"I'm going to take the gun out of your mouth. You're going to answer me."

The gun was thrust from his mouth, Nux appreciating the ability to breathe. His spittle landed on his chin, cold.

"Where is the cargo? What did you do with it?" the strong man boomed. The men that searched his car returned, reporting nothing.

"I honestly, ah!" he called out when one man dug his elbow into his thigh. "I don't know what you're talking about."

The man punched him them, sending his face into the sand. Nux cried out, feeling his cheekbones sting and his teeth rattle.

One of the men chuckled from above Nux. "You think he's virile?"

The man hovering above Nux looked towards the other man, a vile smile twisting his mouth.

Virile?

Nux's eyes searched around him for any answers as to what was going on.

Then it dawned on him.

Virile.

His mind flashed to the boy he'd found, huddled in the steel box. The wreck.

RUTBOY.

Cargo.

He panicked then. He hadn't put it together before, not really understanding what "rutting" even was. When he asked Capable, she explained it was a dirty word and to never use it around her, leaving him feeling guilty. But with the men hovering over him, scanning him, he knew.

The poor boy.

They hurled Nux up from under his arms. He fought, twisting his arms to hit the men behind him. They twisted his arms back in return, a loud scream and a sickening crack following.

"Nux, the War Boy of the Citadel," the unmasked man mused. "I think I'll make you my own rutboy. What a sight that'd be."

A hand came over his mouth when he began to scream profanities. Then, he only saw black.

* * *

Commotion racked its way through the Citadel. After Nux hadn't returned, Furiosa commanded a fleet to start a search for the team. They returned, informing her of the wreck they'd found, the dead War Boys, but no Nux. They'd also reported that People Eater's vehicles had been found in the wreckage.

She breathed too heavy. She felt dizzy. Nux, their Nux. Where was he?

"Go to Gas Town. Now."

The Boys loaded every vehicle they had with artillery, arming themselves two, threefold. Defenders, Attackers, War Kats... everything they had. Furiosa scrambled her way through the garage, her heart racing, panicking even though she knew she shouldn't. Orders flying left and right, War Boys rallying themselves to defend their Nux, their Citadel, their pride, Furiosa leading them in the head vehicle.

News spread through the Citadel as to why there was such a large war pod leaving the garage, heading west. The Wretched, gathering to watch the dust the vehicles kicked, cried out in celebration. There was war coming.

The news reached the very top of the hightower, ringing against the Sisters' ears. Nux? Where was he? Was he killed? Did they take him? Why? Who took him? The Gas Town boys? Why?

Capable's eyes welled with tears, pain. How? It was just a scrap trip, it was just...

The boy gripped Capable's arm as she heard the news. She turned to him, the pain in her chest too heavy to handle without gasping. She saw an expression on his face she hadn't seen before.

Anger.

The boy reached up with a fist, and slammed it against his chest. He was strong now, he could walk and run, he played with the boys. His fist thumped against the scar there, leaving a red mark.

Capable put it together then.

"They're after you," she confirmed. She breathed heavily, tears falling now, her nails digging into her hand. "They're looking for you, you're the cargo, you're what they want."

The boy's features softened now, sadness mingling with anger, true frustration.

 _It's my fault._

Capable wiped her tears.

"They need you back," she gasped. "And Nux is their ransom."


	4. Valiant

**Hello! This was a very exciting chapter to write! I hope you all like it. This is my longest Fanfic yet, I'm so happy to be able to develop a story and share it with all of you. Thanks for the support.**

 **Some warnings:**

 **graphic rape scene (Nux is not involved) (in italics)**

 **slight alluded underage rape (in aforementioned rape scene, in italics), not intentional but I just noticed it**

 **noncon bondage**

 **blood mention, graphic violence in general**

* * *

Capable tried to hold back her tears as she stormed from her bedroom into the foyer, the eyes of the other sisters concerned. Her red face swelled meeting their eyes, her gaze darting between them.

"You need to take care of him," she called to the group. "I have to... go."

"Where are you going?" Cheedo piped up.

"I just... I'm going," Capable nearly shouted, indignant. She pushed the curtain beside her, opened the door to the stairwell, and flew down the stairs.

The sisters exchanged glances. Cheedo and Toast had never even met the boy, nevertheless cared for him. He was always private, Nux and Capable insisting that he come to them when he's ready.

"She's not going after him, is she?" The Dag asked.

"No. That's impossible. She has nowhere to go," Toast answered.

Then, the boy emerged from the room, his linen pants a bit too long and dragging on the ground behind him. He saw the women, but not Capable like he was hoping, and stared.

"Hello," Toast smiled, her voice dripping with sweetness. The women smiled, not moving, afraid of what he would do.

His eyes scanned the women, feeling his heart rate pound twofold.

* * *

 _"You get to take your pick today, rutboy," the big man boomed. He was shuffled in front of a group of five women, his wrists bound and his arms held firmly by the big man. "Aren't you a lucky little shit."_

 _Their faces were covered by canvas bags, tied at their necks. They cried from inside them, muffled. Pained. They heard the man, but didn't see the boy; they saw nothing but the hazy, tan light that soaked inside the bags._

 _The man stayed behind the boy, pushing him closer to the women. The man chucked darkly, watching the boy stumble, trying to catch his balance with the man's instigating pushes._

 _They were so slim, he thought, so young looking. They had the scrapes on their knees and legs; they'd been here before. He wouldn't know if he'd been with them before, he never focused on their bodies long enough to distinguish the many women he was set with every week._

 _"Well?" the big man boomed. Finally he sighed."Pick."_

 _The boy didn't know what to do. He couldn't speak, he couldn't move his hands._

 _The man reached down with the blessed key, prying the metal chastity from his soft penis. It was a relief, though knowing why the big man had done it sent fear into his veins, coursing through his body._

 _Another man took each woman, one by one, and bent them over, securing them in rutting bondage. They cried, pleaded, please not again, one cried. Not again. They were exposed to the boy, their legs spread by the wooden bars at their ankles. They tried to close their legs, only for a metal rod to snap at their knees, a harsh scream accompanying. The boy swallowed. Watching them in the dim room was painful. They didn't deserve this. None of them did._

 _"Pick."_

 _The boy couldn't do it, he knew. He couldn't do it optionally. He couldn't hurt them, he couldn't pick. He couldn't move, he couldn't breathe._

 _The man growled and grabbed the boy's shoulder._

 _"Fine, you greedy shit," he thundered. He was always so loud, angry. "Then you get all of them."_

 _All of them? Now? Five? How?_

 _The man picked the boy up, his feet dangling and taking the breath out of his lungs. He was positioned on the wooden stand in front of the woman on the far left. They had no idea._

 _The man grabbed the boy's soft cock and held it very close to the woman's entrance._

 _"Real warm, huh? That get you hard? Or do you need a man?" he chided. The boy did feel the warmth, and after many weeks of chastity, it excited him. He squeezed his eyes shut. He didn't want to be. He didn't want to feel this way._

 _"There you go, you're going," the man was quieter now, strange to the boy. He felt the blood rush from his head, not liking the dizzying feeling that accompanied._

 _The woman shrieked as the man rubbed her, trying to wet her. She cried, unable to wipe her face from the snot and tears that were concealed behind the bag. The boy saw the red hair that slipped out of the bag, long and straight._

 _"Stupid bitch," the man called. She screamed loudly at that._

 _"Shut the fuck up!" he screamed. Rushing to her face, he thrust two fingers into the space where her open mouth would be, the rough lining of the bag cutting into her gums. She cried, always crying, always pained. The boy remained unmoving, though he could try to escape, he feared what would happen if he were caught._

 _She was quiet then, struggling to breath after he had pinched her nose over the bag. Her body kicked once, twice, her nose and mouth still covered, three times, then was still. Her body fell limp, suspended only by the ropes tying her body to the ceiling and the brace between her legs. The man slapped her; she was unconscious._

 _"Start now."_

 _The boy looked at the man who remained in front of the woman. He couldn't. He couldn't do it. He couldn't rut without being forced to. She was practically dead, she was lifeless. How could he?_

 _"You start, or I'll milk you for all you've got then fucking kill you."_

 _They wouldn't kill him. They needed him. He was the most virile, the healthiest._

 _The man rushed to the flinching boy, grabbing his neck. "I strangled her, I'll strangle you. You can still rut if you're unconscious the way I've built you up." He pressed too hard on his throat, his vocal cords cut but still pained by the pressure the man's thumbs gave._

 _He felt his head go light, his eyes bulge. He coughed, wiggling, trying to get away from the man's hands._

 _I'm going to die. I'm going to die right here. I'm going to die, please, let me die._

 _He accepted his death right before he was denied it._

 _His body forced his lungs to fill when the man released. He felt the sting of oxygen relieve his woozy head, his cock still hard even after all this. He was built up, just how the man liked._

 _"Do it."_

 _The boy had accepted his death only when he was forced to. If he was alive, at least he had a chance at leaving this place, no matter how dismal that prospect was._

 _He met up with the woman's entrance, his head pressing into her. He maintained eye contact with the man as he thrust in._

 _I can't do this, I have to. I have to do this. I..._

 _The woman's body limply rocked with the boy's hips. In only two thrusts, the boy expelled, the horrible feeling following the brief biological euphoria. He hated it. He hated it all. He hated the man, he hated himself. He had done it now, he had hurt this woman by his own doing._

 _"Get ready to go," the man grinned. "There's four more to go."_

* * *

The women now pursed their lips, the boy having been shaking and trembling in the door frame.

The Dag stepped forward, the boy's eyes snapping to her.

"You must be looking for Capable, poor boy," she cooed. "She's gone right now, but she'll be back. You're okay, we won't hurt you. That's Toast," she pointed at her, "and that's Cheedo."

The boy didn't relax until the Dag came close, bending down to look into his eyes. His breathing eased. He knew these eyes. The blonde woman's eyes.

She touched his shoulder gently. He shuddered under her touch, but soothed. He looked at Toast and Cheedo, calm now.

"Just like that, huh?" Toast asked.

The Dag turned to them, guiding the boy to follow her as she approached them.

"He likes voices. Talk to him, and he'll be fine. Right now, we just have to wait for Capable to come back," The Dag managed to get him close to the girls, his eyes scanning them. They were so peaceful, he thought.

The women guided him to a small couch in the middle of the room, Dag sitting next to him and the other women across.

Their soft voices soothed him as he worried about Capable and Nux, the fear stinging his eyes and tearing at his belly.

* * *

Nux woke, groggy, in pain. His nose hurt, his legs, his arms. He couldn't move, he realized. Panicked, he thrashed in his bondage, tight metal encapsulating his torso.

"Good morning, sunshine," a familiar voice called from the darkness that surrounded him. The man that had captured him stepped into view, his body covered with brown armor.

"What..." Nux shook his head, trying to get his bearings.

"We can't use you as a rutboy," the man called. "You're infected with... whatever you got." He alluded to the tumors on Nux's neck. "What a shame."

Nux's eyes stung. Why were they keeping him? Why not bring him back to the Citadel where they could get their 'cargo'?

"Right now your little friends are coming for you. Don't worry, we'll keep you nice and safe. Wouldn't want you or your friends getting hurt, right?"

Nux glared at the man, his breath still short. They were coming to get him, to fight... to fall into a trap.

"Please," he choked out. "Please, just let me go. You can have your... cargo back."

"We both know that's not going to happen. Your bitch of an Imperator won't let us off the hook for something like that."

"She definitely won't after you've nabbed one of her dignitaries."

The man's mouth bent into a slimy smile. "Not with some... persuasion."

Nux swallowed. He knew what they were doing.

"Simple. They give us the cargo and never speak of this again, or you die," the man continued, his voice dripping with sin.

Nux thrashed again at that, his fears confirmed. The boy laying in his bed, crying, huddled against Capable... just cargo to this man.

"Why?" he uttered, feeling his mouth dry.

"Why what?"

"Why do you want your... 'cargo' so badly?"

"Because he cost me a whole tanker of guzzoline."

The words stung Nux's chest. The boy who he'd bonded with, who he cared for and... loved, dare he say, worth just a tanker of guzzoline.

"Is it worth starting a war with the Citadel?" Nux spat.

"War? So you think they'll let us kill you, all to protect the fucking worm?"

He's not a worm, Nux thought. Nux thought many things, mostly murderous.

"The trade is important. Your Imperator wouldn't understand," the man circled Nux. "You wouldn't either, boy."

Nux didn't.

"You think we can keep a sizable population of healthy workers with the seed of the Damned? The women he have are plenty... Immortan Joe kept only the finest while we take advantage of what we have. You chain one up, they stay for forty, fifty years before they can't pop any more out. It's the men that are hard to come by. You're all infected by this or that. Your seed is tainted, just like the rest that we don't have circulating."

Nux sneered. Everything came together for him, the scars on the boy's chest, his fear of women. No wonder he'd gotten so panicked... he was forced to mate with them like an animal. His heart hurt to think about it, closing off the images of the poor boy he'd seen curled up in the metal box.

The man produced a pistol from his back holster and cocked it. The noise made Nux shudder. The man held the gun to Nux's head through the bars of the cage he was trapped in. He tried to swing his head away from the barrel, but it followed him with ease.

"You'll taste this bullet, Nux the Dignitary of the Citadel," the man mocked, "if your Imperator wants to be the hero and shut down our operations."

Nux closed his eyes. He had been so ready for death before, Valhalla's promise of chrome guiding his actions during his half-life. But now he was staring it down, the gold detailing of the gun catching the dim light that hung above.

* * *

Capable rushed from the lower level to Furiosa's watch. Guards had moved aside for the dignitary, lowering their weapons. She'd pushed open the door, preparing her questions, her demands, her ne-

Furiosa's chair was empty.

No.

Capable shouted and turned from the door, slamming it behind her.

"Where is she?" the screamed to one of the guards.

"On the rescue mission, Dignitary."

"Where?"

"Gas Town."

"She went with the Boys?"

"Yes, Dignitary."

She scrambled, her thoughts a mess as much as her body. She felt sick, her head dizzy. She needed to know what had happened to Nux, she needed to know where he was, if he was safe. Her chest was squeezed, painful, as she fled to the platform level.

Now in the empty garage, hoping for any answers, she scanned the walls and bunks of the usually very busy catacombs. There, the schedule, every car that entered or left the garage would be there. She could see what vehicles were still there, what she could take.

She skimmed the chart, her heart sinking seeing that they'd all been taken. Every single vehicle. Amazed at the sheer audacity of it, she was also disappointed.

Though as her eyes skimmed the ceiling of the garage, her mouth lax and her breathing heavy with defeat, she spotted the shiny glare that only chrome could give.

* * *

"Where did he go?" The women met in the foyer again after having parted. Dag held the water the boy had wanted to drink, Toast held some strawberries he'd wanted to taste, and Cheedo held a book he'd wanted her to read, all from their rooms. Their doors closed behind them.

"Um... Boy?!" not sure what to call him, Cheedo called out. No answer.

"He can't talk, Cheedo," Dag put down the water and began to search the foyer for the boy.

"I know, but... where could he have gone?" Cheedo did the same, Toast following.

"Something must have spooked him."

"Check Nux and Capable's room."

Toast did; it was empty.

"We managed to lose a kid who can't talk and can barely function around us," Toast groaned.

"Capable's gonna be mad."

Capable.

"He went to find her," Dag concluded.

The others looked towards the curtain, then at each other, before rushing to the door.

* * *

He found better pants, black like Nux's. They were dusty with the desert sand, but he preferred them to the thin linen that dragged and caught on his heels. They made him feel like Nux, the scars on his chest something to be proud of instead of something shameful. War Boys were proud of their scars, Capable had said. The clay on his skin was cold, itchy. But it was white, white like Nux. Maybe he could be like Nux. He would have to be.

He skimmed the darkness, knowing what he was looking for. His eyes adjusted, his pupils expanding. He felt strong, he felt inside himself, he felt powerful.

Something he had not felt in his entire life.

He saw it then, the light dim and blue. Heading towards it, he clenched his fists.

* * *

Capable scrambled back up the stairs, trying to reach the rig that she saw hanging from the ceiling. How she'd even lower it, nonetheless drive it if it could even be driven, remained a problem she'd deal with later.

Sweating, her heart pounding, she heard the stairwell's door slam from up above.

"Capable!" Toast called.

What did they want? Where was the boy?

She looked up at them, craning her neck, her red hair blatant against the dim grays of the garage.

"Is the boy with you?" Dag called.

Capable's heart sunk. She shook her head weakly.

Their breathing was short, panicked. "We can't find him!"

Capable's brow furrowed. "What?"

"He... he wandered off! We thought he'd have gone to find you!" Toast called down, her voice echoing.

Oh no. Capable's gut wretched further, the feeling unbearable. Why had he done that to her? Why had he run off? She felt the tears well back into her eyes, her throat closing. Like she didn't have enough to worry about.

"I'm coming back up," she said, her voice cracking but audible. She'd forget about the rig... even if she got it down, she couldn't drive it. The boy's absence had brought her back down to Earth, back to this wasteland.

The girls watched her as she ascended the stairs, then left the garage with them, arms over her shoulders.

Another pair of eyes watched as well.

* * *

With Capable gone, the boy swung from the rig, feeling for any ropes that would lower the vehicle. He'd jumped in when he noticed it, having climbed the observation ladders that lined the walls. He found a rough rope, seeing the pulley it was attached to, and lessened the tether the rig was held up from. It began to fall with a start, the boy's palms burning as he steadied the vehicle, now dangling halfway down. He threw the wheel he'd found in the blue room in the passenger seat and carefully lowered the rig down to the floor, straining his already weak muscles. His throat emitted garbled noises, breathy in his effort.

Soon, the tires hit the ground. The export gate was left open in the haste of battle, he would have to drive it there to make it out of there without Capable knowing. He was nervous, his heart pounding, but there was something different now compared to every time he'd been this way before.

Adrenaline.

He plunged the wheel into place, the engine igniting and roaring to life. Why had they left this one?

The engine was loud. He needed to leave now, before the women noticed it. He pressed his toe to the gas pedal, having never driven a car before, and lunged forward.

Maybe he should have thought this through.

* * *

The women scattered, searching the hightower one floor at a time. If he'd been spooked, they figured he must have run off to the farthest place he could. After an unsuccessful search, the women gathered at the platform deck, overlooking the great expanse of desert before them. They chattered ideas, Capable the most panicked of them all, the sun beating into their eyes.

Then they heard the roar of an engine.

"I thought all the Boys went with?" Toast muttered.

Capable's eyes widened. Not every boy. One was supposed to stay in her bedroom.

Soon after Capable's chest hurt at its apex with the force of her emotions, the women noticed a small black car zoom its way from the export deck, leaving a trail of dust, heading west.

All the women could do was stare wide-eyed as it left their view in favor of the horizon, Capable's eyes welling with tears once again.

* * *

A pounding came to the door, awakening the man that watched over Nux, powerless to move. He had been muzzled, his mouth much smarter than his intentions. Nux was too hot, his body crumpled within the metal cage that bound his torso. His legs were chained to the ground , the cage supporting his weight. He was too uncomfortable to rest, too stressed to even consider the idea.

"What's the password?" the man called, voice shaky with sleep.

"Kind son," the voice boomed from behind the door. Nux was stricken with fear once again, the dull ache in his gut turning to a sharper one.

The man opened the door, revealing a massive man that pushed his way through, approaching Nux. The man was muscular, bigger than Rictus had been. Nux was slightly amazed, but more terrified of the evil glint in the man's eyes.

"The famous traitor War Boy," the man's deep voice growled. "Here for me. What an honor to see you." He removed Nux's muzzle, leaving it to drop to his feet.

"Marcus," Nux breathed, astonished, thankful for the leather muzzle to be off of his face.

"Good to know people are getting to know my name," the brutish man grinned.

"Marcus, they're on their way," the smaller man announced.

"I know that, Howl. They're doing everything I knew they'd do. That bitch Impertor couldn't stand to know her precious little Nux is," he reached a rough finger through the bars, Nux writhing to avoid them, "with us."

Howl. Nux knew that name as well. Howl was the new leader of Gas Town, the somewhat healthy heir of People Eater. He was small, unassuming, but dangerous. It was foolish of Nux to assume that because trade flourished between the territories, there wasn't any agreements being broken, the agreement to ban sexual slavery being one of those.

Marcus withdrew his finger. "You got my best boy," he snarled, even when he was quiet his voice carried throughout the room. "That boy gave me one live baby per four ruttings. That's almost unheard of."

Nux felt the bile rise in his throat.

"You'd make a good rutboy, if you weren't a degenerate," Marcus laughed now. "It's my favorite hobby, watching them squirm before they rut. You know they like it, there's no way they don't. That boy always did good. You'd be proud."

Nux swallowed, trying to push back the acid that burned and the constriction that made it hard to breathe.

"Considered rutting him myself, but I got my rocks off plenty well thinking of how he rutted those bitches so good," Marcus continued, drinking in the pain that he sensed from Nux. "Besides, I'd have broken him."

Quiet now, satisfied with the tears welling in Nux's eyes and the wrinkles in his forehead. He moved to sit next to Howl, keeping his eyes on Nux.

"War pod!" a man called from behind the door. Both men perked, grinning, looking towards Nux with a final glare before leaving. He shook in his bondage, crying now, worried about his boys, about Furiosa who no doubt was leading them.

He made up his mind, though the decision wouldn't be entirely his.

He closed his eyes, tears falling, thinking of how Capable would fare without him. She'd move on, he decided. He'd have to move on, death an unavoidable punishment now.

He would rather die than see his boy returned to the hands of Marcus and Howl.

* * *

Furiosa's heady glare focused on Gas Town's highest point, her thoughts never faltering. She'd anticipated vehicular response from them, though the desert was strangely absent from enemy retribution. The rig she drove headed straight for the hightower of Gas Town, her pod following.

As she approached, the man armed themselves. Her passenger sent out the orders she gave, the Boys obeying her. They were ready, they were excited. They needed Nux back.

From the corner of her eye, she spotted a moving target to her right. Looking further, she noticed it was theirs, the hull a distinctive black. It was the unarmed Scavenger that was strung up in the garage, unused due to their lack of ammunition to stock it. What was it doing here? And who drove it?

Capable.

"Goddamn it," Furiosa called out. She sped towards the hightower, still, unable to protect her, a feeling that ravaged Furiosa's gut.

The vehicle rapidly whirred left, coming closer to them, then veered right, then straightened. She didn't know how to drive, Furiosa knew. She would hurt herself.

It would have to be a mistake she learned herself.

Furiosa fought the nagging in her stomach as she neared the hightower, eyes locked on the open small observation deck above.

She saw him, then. She saw the big man holding his neck, pinning him to his knees with shackles and chains.

She saw the gun to his head.

"All stop!" she called. Her passenger shouted it out to the Boys, the vehicles slowing down with Furiosa's. She glared up at the ledge, the Damned of Gas Town watching intently at the strange woman who exited her vehicle to stand atop the hood.

"Marcus!" she called, recognizing the man instantly.

"I offer you one chance to rectify this situation," Marcus called down. Nux's sweat made it hard to keep a strong grip on his neck.

Furiosa swallowed. The War Boys exited their vehicles, silent.

"You give me back my cargo, or Nux dies," he said simply.

"You are breaking agreements we made," Furiosa's voice strong despite her crashing emotions.

"Like I'd listen to a bitch."

Furiosa's eyes widened at this. Her lips pursed. So that's how this would be.

"I give you one chance," he repeated. "You never mention this again, you can take your dignitary back home with you right now. You fight this, you fight our way of life, he's dead."

The gold in the gun caught the sunlight, stinging Furiosa's eyes. She didn't know what to do, she admitted to herself for the first time in a long while.

"Save him, Furi-" Nux began to call, but Marcus's strong hand tightened on his throat. Nux thrashed his body, feeling the air leave his lungs, blood rush from his head.

"Stop! Stop," Furiosa screamed. "Fine. You can take the boy back."

Marcus released Nux's throat, a hearty gasp following from Nux. He was thankful, only for a wave of dread to follow. He bore his eyes down at Furiosa. How could she? How could she do that to the boy? She had seen him, she had seen him cry and bond with him and Capable.

"Is he with you?" Marcus thundered down to Furiosa, grabbing the shackles that Nux's wrists were bound in.

"No," she responded. The War Boys behind her remained antsy. Why didn't she just let them shoot him?

"Then he stays here until you retrieve him."

Furiosa nodded. She'd anticipated bloody vehicular manslaughter, valiant rescue with explosions in the backdrop. She didn't expect this, she didn't expect to feel like her heart was ripped from her chest. Her own plan was coming together, she had to remind herself. She just needed time.

There was commotion behind the men in the tower now. Marcus turned to inspect his surroundings, Nux closing his eyes in defeat. He didn't want to live, he didn't want to if it meant the boy would be returned. He cursed Furiosa, he screamed, he cried. She met his gaze, only pursing her lips and breathing heavily.

* * *

The boy knew the door he needed to get to. It was the only door he knew, in fact; the one the big man had come through. It led to the outside. It must be here somewhere, the sunlight wouldn't have poured in if it weren't. The sun came in at five, he knew. He skimmed the side of the hightower, then the back, then the other side.

There.

He stopped, the car careening as he tried to steady it. Driving the car was difficult in the sand, and he was glad to be out of it.

His eyes glued to the false edifice that disguised the door, he shuffled his bare feet in the sand. The black pants he donned protected him from the sun and the sand, he understood why Nux wore them now. The white clay helped the light bounce off of him, avoiding burns. He felt strong, impervious even to nature.

He pried open the false covering, then opened the door, unlocked. No one ever came here except the big man, there would be no need to lock it.

There was his bunk. He stared at it, his eyes adjusting to the dark. Memories, now, coming back. Cold nights, shivering, feeling dirty, the chastity pressing into his skin. He pushed them from his mind, though, and closed the door. The dim light there now making the passageway clear, he advanced towards it.

He felt something scrape his pants. Looking down, he picked the object up, holding it in his hands a moment before slipping it into one of the numerous pockets on the pants.

He heard crying, women. He felt himself shake, his heart race, trembling. No, he thought. He has to be strong, now. He needed to do this. He could come back for them. He could help them, too.

He scanned the rutting room for a way out, a way up.

There.

A small, black ladder. He didn't know if it led to Nux, but he climbed it, pushing the wooden door open as he pushed himself into the room. The room held the bondage equipment, sending shivers down the boy's spine. How many time's he'd been locked into it, it digging into his skin...

Not now, he thought. Later. He could destroy it all later.

He advanced through another door, this room more empty than anything. How many doors until there was another way up?

Finally, he reached a stairwell. He was anticipating guards, guns. But there were none, so far.

He climbed the staircase, knowing where Nux would be. He knew they'd be on the top platform with the war pod coming, he knew what the other man would be doing to Nux. He swallowed the thought, banishing it from his head. He prayed to whoever was listening that Nux was safe, that no one was hurting him like he had been hurt.

His steps quiet, he met a large metal door. He concluded this must have been a secret staircase, assessable only through the rutting room. A staircase only for the big man. He considered spitting on the steps, but decided to conserve precious water.

He tried to open the door, slowly, trying not to make any noise.

Locked.

He cursed it.

Then he remembered the object he had found in his bunk.

He scrambled to obtain it, forgetting which pocket it was in before feeling it with his fingers eventually.

He held the shank in his hand, long and thin. It was similar to the one the big man had used to unlock his chastity; maybe it would work on this lock.

He jammed it into the keyhole, his brain briefly flashing to the abuse he suffered. Not now, he thought. Not now.

The door's lock didn't budge.

He squirmed with it, jiggling it.

Then the knob turned.

Fear rushed through the boy's body as he gripped the shank once more, falling back as the door opened.

The other man.

The other man smiled with open teeth upon seeing the boy, shocked.

"Well, what do we have here?"

The boy heard Nux then. He heard him screaming, he heard him crying. He breathed heavily, suddenly thrusting himself towards the other man, and drove the shank deep inside his gut. The other man gulped, not expecting him to be armed. He'd expected him to be a surrender, the deal that was exchanged only moments before being sealed. Now, the other man leaned into the boy as he tried to pull out the shank. Succeeding with a final pull, the other man grabbed the boy's wrist of the hand that held the shank, forcing him to drop it. The man's fist landed in the boy's gut, taking the breath out of him but not enough to dampen the adrenaline coursing through his veins. He pushed the other man off of him, scrambling down to obtain the shank, and rushed towards the man with gritted teeth.

He sent the shank through the first thing he saw, slipping slightly on the blood that pooled below the man's feet. He sank the metal deep into the man's eye, a pained scream accompanying. He rushed his hand over the man's mouth to silence him. Angry now, though, with high octane blood now in his system, he removed the shank from one eye and drove it into the other.

 _Inspect me now._

The man fell limp at the boy's feet. He bent down to search him for weapons, anything.

He looked up to meet the big man's eyes in the doorway to the overlooking platform. He looked behind him and saw Nux, still looking down, still screaming. He was only shackled. A wave of relief rushed over him, though it was quickly followed by fear as the big man advanced towards him.

He towered over him, speeding towards him, his feet stomping his way through the room, passing the bondage equipment that Nux had been in.

 _I'm not afraid of you._

The man growled in the way he always did, arms outstretched to grab the boy.

The boy held out the pistol, locked, loaded.

The man's eyes widened as he pulled the trigger, the unexpected force pushing the boy back. He'd tried to reach up to point his own pistol at him, but a sharp pain claimed his arm, forcing him to drop it.

He fell backwards, stumbling, gripping the wound the bullet had made through his chest.

The boy had shot him again, missing his body and instead landing in his arm.

He cried out. Nux tried to turn to see what was going on, but with his knees shackled to his wrists he couldn't.

He did see, though, the rush of black and white and red as the boy rushed Marcus past him, breaking the wooden railings and sending them both careening downwards.

* * *

Furiosa saw the men fall towards her. She jumped out of the way, right before the bigger one crashed into her rig's hood, bending the metal with the weight. The smaller boy fell moments after, knocking his head on the metal and tumbling downwards onto the sand. He lay there, silent, unmoving, his body having been dropped there like a ragdoll. His face dug into the sand, his limbs splayed.

She didn't believe it when he stood then, his legs shaky, his head bleeding. Nux called from above, incoherent words to her now, as the boy reached into the pocket of his War Boy pants, his skin white from the clay, and retrieved his shank.

Marcus was dead, she knew that for sure from how still he lay and the angle his back had collapsed into. The boy climbed over him, his legs weak.

He cried, tears falling onto the body. Everyone was silent now, including Nux. They all stared, though, including the Damned that had gathered to witness the spectacle.

 _Think twice._

The boy dragged the shank across the graying skin of Marcus's throat, a deep gash that still bled from the recentness of his death. One quick swipe, and he was silenced. Silenced forever, his voice never to boom in the walls of the rutting room again. The boy breathed heavily, his shoulder slumped, his chest heaving.

He looked up now, looking to the horizon as he stood. Furiosa, incredulous, admired from beside him. She had known the emotions he felt, the emotions from finally conquering the one thing that kept him tethered to the pain he felt.

The War Boys noticed he wore their paint, but didn't know him. They knew, though, from Nux's reaction, it didn't matter. One boy in front raised his hands in the V8 salute, his fingers creating a silhouette against the evening desert sky. The others followed in a wave, more and more hands raising as the boy stood straighter to see. They witnessed him, not in death, but back to life. Back to a life of his own.

"Hey!" Nux called from above. The boy turned to gaze at him. The sun inhibited his vision, but he could still see the tears Nux left on his face.

The boy reached up to Nux, a white hand against the red rock that adorned the hightower of Gas Town. Nux smiled, never more thankful to see a bloody War Boy in his life. He heaved a sigh of relief, the bindings that kept him on his knees more restrictive now as he desired to get to the boy more than anything.

A War Boy had went to Nux, cutting the chains that connected his limbs together, the shackles still intact. Nux didn't care. He followed the Boy down to the sand, met by the cheers of his Boys and a very pleased Furiosa.

And the boy.

Nux rushed to him, the boy dropping his shank in the sand and moved towards him as well. They met, a heavy embrace linking them, Nux digging his face into the boy's hair.

"Nice paint," he remarked. He swallowed back his emotions, but there was one that he couldn't. The one that gripped his insides and tugged.

Once.

Twice.

Thrice.

He felt the boy cry, shaking now, the adrenaline wearing off. He didn't quite comprehend how he was able to pull it off, how he was able to drive a car and kill two men. He did know, though, that as he hugged Nux, he never wanted to let go.

It was over just like that. One bout of bravery, one feral push through his own thresholds.

Nux broke the embrace, looking into the boy's eyes. The white paint began to slough off from his tumble into the sand. It made him smile.

Then, his eyes moved behind the boy to Furiosa.

He patted the boy's shoulder as he moved past him, furious, advancing towards her. She didn't move, standing her ground as Nux got in her face like he had with spatting War Boys.

"Nux," she said, feeling the anger that could only result from one's livelihood being threatened. "We had a sniper."

Nux's features softened.

"Oh," he breathed, swallowing.

"But it's better this way, huh?" she looked at the boy now who had turned to watch them.

Nux nodded, returning to the boy.

"How did you do that?" he grasped the boy's shoulders lightly. He appreciated the pressure.

For once, the boy answered a non-yes-or-no question with a simple shrug.

Nux laughed. "Yeah, I get you."

The War Boys cheered as Nux addressed them, commending their bravery and how they'd all rallied to come save him. He really was humbled, knowing their willingness to die came from their respect for him, not blind worship like Immortan Joe.

He was no God.

But the way the boy looked up to him as Nux stood on the hood of a pursuit vehicle... he sure felt like one.


	5. Thrice

**Hello! Thank you for all your support. I never expected it to get this popular considering it is pretty dark, but this chapter is much fluffier than the others! I decided to write this like a series of one-shots almost, to show you all how the boy is settling in the Citadel. There is some language in this chapter, not much though. I hope you liked this story, if you did please let me know! I took on this really ambitious idea I had, I've never written anything like it before. So again, this is a lighter-ish chapter and I hope you all liked the story :)**

The women were excited to see the war pod return, everything seeming intact. As they deposited the vehicles into the garage, the War Boys scrambling to mark their charts and return their wheels to the alter, Furiosa jumped out of her Commander, Nux following from the passenger seat.

"Nux!" Capable called from the top of the garage, two staircases between them. He looked up, smiling, meeting her grin as she flew down the stairs to meet him.  
Furiosa climbed atop the Defender, opening the large cargo bay that was attached to the back.

Capable threw herself into Nux, still weary and with shackles on his wrists. She cried, she cried, she cried. He was safe, it seemed to be all that mattered.

"Where is the boy?" she choked out, her eyes scanning the bustling crowd of black and white, searching for brown eyes and brown hair.

"He's safe," Nux swallowed back his tears. "Everyone is safe."

Capable's eyes caught a glimpse of pale unpainted skin. Then more, tanner that one. And one more.

Women.

They were nude, scared, trying to cover themselves as Furiosa helped them down from the cargo bay onto the garage floor. They met her gaze, thankful to see another woman as feminine as they, as Furiosa handed them water and blankets.

"They were the breeders, weren't they?" she looked to Nux now. "How?"

Nux gripped Capable's shoulders for a moment before turning away from her, disappearing into the ocean of men that matched him. Black and white. Black and white.

Then there was brown.

Nux carried him, limp in his arms. Was he...?

No.

Nux approached her again, the boy's chest rising and falling. She reached out and brushed the sand from his hair, the clay from his face. "He was so brave, Capable. You'd have been amazed."

Nux told her what happened as they returned to the hightower, the other sisters crowding his sleeping body as they rested it on their bed.

"He hit his head pretty hard in the fall," Nux said. "He'll need to rest a bit."

Capable and Nux remained with the boy, making little circles in his clammy skin.  
-

"That's him?"

"He's so small. There's no way."

"He's just a boy, he couldn't be older than what, fifteen?"

"His records said eighteen."

"Poor thing, poor thing."

His eyes slid open, hazy black silhouettes above him. There were three, their voices soft.

 _The figure loomed over him as he bled out, his throat burning from the gash that had rendered his vocal cords completely useless. Sweet, soft words were the last thing he heard before he succumbed to the pain, the darkness._

The figures were clear now, though.

Women.

They smiled upon seeing his eyes open, greetings all around, good morning, hello, how do you feel.

Then there was Nux.

The women hovered with Nux resting his hand on the boy's shoulder.

When had he fallen asleep? Was he home?

 _Home._

"Hey, War Boy," Nux's raspy voice uttered, calming considering there were three women hovering over him.

Her red hair.

It dangled from her face, tickling his collarbone.

 _It stuck out like oil in water against gray skin and a tan sack that covered her head._

The boy's chest heaved, not that he wanted it to, but because this woman, he knew, he had hurt.

 _I hurt you, I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry, you're so beautiful, I'm sorry._

Nux ushered the women back, giving the boy space. He sat up, trying to calm himself. He stared daggers at the woman, not angry but intense. She looked at him with big, blue eyes, clear now. She must have had food and water, a shower (that he decided he liked very much), and a change of clothes. They all had.

"It's alright, now," the redhead woman smiled.

 _It's alright? I hurt you. I hurt you and the others. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. Please forgive me._

Despite Nux's attempts, the woman approached the boy who sat up from the bed, sat down next to him, and hugged him.

He trembled, the contact from the woman making him uneasy. Though she remained, her red hair that he knew soft against his face, smelling clean. He closed his eyes and swallowed, the pressure behind his eyes easing, the tenderness from the woman calming him.

"It's alright, we're not mad at you, poor thing..." she whispered into the boy's hair. His eyes fluttered open. "You saved us, War Boy."

 _I'm not a War Boy._

She parted from the hug, still holding his back, letting the boy stare at her. She was scarred, too. No doubt from the big man.

"They were all we could find," Nux recounted. "There's more on the files we found, but they must have been traded to Gas Town."

The girls looked at Nux now. They nodded, already knowing this.

"Furiosa is sending in investigation groups to both territories, they'll find 'em."

The women grinned, looking towards the boy now.

"My name is Nali," the redhead smiled. She rubbed his back, strong now. Strong like him.

"Serenity," a brown-haired woman nodded.

"Natural," the blonde introduced.

"And you don't have a name," Nali expressed, her eyes soothing like only a mother's could be.

The boy nodded. He'd never recalled ever having a name. He was taken very young, he didn't remember his mother or his father.

"We'll have to name him."

"I was thinking that was as valiant as he is, you know? Something like Buck, or Bullet, or Resist."

"No, no. Something soft, look at him. I think Feather would be perfect. Pure."

"Pure is a girl's name."

"So?"

"What about something about him? Lean? Strength?"

"August."

The women turned to Nux, the sudden male voice unexpected.

"Noble, dignified..." the women hummed to each other.

August.

The boy smiled for the first time that morning.  
–

She was brushing his hair now, tingling his wet scalp and sending shivers through his clean skin. August reached up to feel the scarring wounds on his lips, rough and red. He'd have to be proud of them, like Nux was proud of his.

Capable finished, placing the brush on the table next to them. She looked down at him who sat between her legs as she sat on the bed.

"I'm so proud of you, August."

He wasn't used to having a name, yet, his reaction not knee-jerk like others' would have been. He craned his neck to look at her, brown eyes sparkling golden.

"But I hate you for doing it. You could have gotten very hurt."

 _You hate me?_

Capable's heart thudded when his gaze turned to one of pain. She'd have to get used to talking to him like a child, he basically was one developmentally.

"I mean," she stuttered. "I was very worried. I care about you, August. We all do. You didn't have to do it, is all I mean."

He reached up with a forceful hand, gripping her knee. Then, he nodded.

 _Yes, I did._

Capable swallowed then, understanding. She had such a unique way of knowing what he was thinking, what he needed, just from his eyes and his touches. No one else had mastered it quite as well.

Only a mother could.

She nodded in response, her hand resting against his now.

–

"So, alright, um," Nux breathed. "It's like this. You just, grab it," he did, "and turn it like this," and turned the wrench from left to right. The nut screwed in the engine deeper, securing the two overlays of metal together.

August watched, painted and with his War Boy pants, suspended from the tethers that the engine workers hung from. He watched Nux's skilled hand fix and prep the engine before him, a beautiful turbocharged V8 placed within the suspended Chaser.

Nux smiled, seeing August so interested in cars and driving warming his heart. Maybe he really was his son, he mused jokingly.

The boy grabbed the wrench from Nux now, repeating the motion that he'd shown him with ease. His small hands were useful in turning the small bolts that were found in engine blocks, reaching cords and wires through touch spots. The other War Boys welcomed him, seeing his bravery and his usefulness. Nux made very clear he wouldn't be going out in rides unless he was with Nux, there would be no battle with him; he was just not experienced enough.

"Good," Nux took the wrench from him, stuffing it back in his pocket. August smiled, looking down at the commotion that rushed like a river of white and black below him. He hadn't shaved his head, Capable resisting the possibility, but he felt one with them, he felt like he belonged. He felt useful, he felt like he was worth something.

"You know August," Nux wiped the sweat from his brow with his spare hand, the other having grabbed a different wrench from his pocket, "seeing you all painted up, it makes me feel all," he paused, August meeting his gaze now, "nah, nevermind."

August looked down, confused. Was he displeased with him? He was enjoying learning to much, he enjoyed being around Nux. He liked how he gripped his shoulder, how he roughhoused with him and his War Boy comrades, how he was there when he thrashed in his bed from a nightmare, rushing into his room to soothe him. He had gotten his own room in the hightower, next to Nux and Capable's, though he did like sleeping in their bed when he could.

Nux only reached up and gripped the back of August's head firmly. They smiled, August's feelings soothed. They said nothing more as Nux pulled the tether, sending them both back down to the lower level of the garage.

–

"The agreements must be maintained," Furiosa growled, "or you won't get a drop of water from us."

The large men that sat before her nodded.

"We can exist in peace only if we work to allow it. We will trade and make business until you break our vows."

"We won't," the man on the left nodded. The other one followed suit. "Unless you break ours."

"Good. Then we have nothing more to discuss."

The men stood, their bodies weak but capable. They hadn't expected to become leaders so quickly after Howl and Marcus had, but they faced the challenge with eyes wide open.

"Make sure they're escorted back," Furiosa commanded one of her guards.

Alone now, she looked to the horizon, watching their vehicles carry them back to their territories, east and west.

–

August sat with the women, Capable to his left and Nux to his right. Food went around, plentiful after the Dag's recent harvest. He was starting to get the hang of table manners, just like Nux had. It would take time.

Furiosa rushed through the doorway, smiling. Her chest heaved with the effort of running up the flights of stairs to get to the group.

"We rescued three more from the Bullet Farm after Dreary surrendered them," she announced.

The womens' eyes went wide. "Elana?" one piped.

"Don't know about names, they're in the medical ward."

The women and August rushed down the stairs with Furiosa, leaving the Sisters and Nux. They exchanged smiles, glad another rescue went according to plan.

A beat of silence.

"So, are we gonna address the obvious here?" Toast grinned from behind her glass.

Nux and Capable, confused, looked towards her for elaboration.

The Dag giggled, Cheedo raising her brows.

"Capable, Ms-I'd-Never-Have-A-Baby-Unless-Immortan-Pushed-It-Out-Of-Me herself, pining over such youth," The Dag took a bite of bread. "Just curious, is all."

"You think I'm pining? After all those years of abuse you'd think he deserved some gentle care, it's not like I swaddle him."

"No need to get defensive. It's cute, very like you, I think," Toast added.

"Very like me to what, exactly?"

"Adopt him."

"I adopted nobody."

"You adopted Nux, in the simplest sense of the word."

Nux looked up at Capable at that, meeting her antagonistic glare.

"I adopted nobody," she repeated. "August isn't mine, he never will be, he just needed someone to care for him."

"And you seem almost overjoyed at that, Nux too."

"It's been refreshing to see such a promising boy feel comfortable and loved, yes, if that's what you're alluding to."

"I'm alluding to how he thinks you're his mother," Cheedo smiled. "And Nux, his father."

"There's no such thing happening."

"Are you sure?"

"Very."

"He seems to want to follow in daddy's footsteps pretty badly, painting himself like that."

"Like a War Boy? He's just playing around," Nux interjected.

"It's more than that and you know it."

Nux looked down at his food. He knew, he did. He'd felt it when he saw him suspended from the rafters, he'd felt it when he pushed Marcus over the railing. He'd felt it now.

"I'm hardly older than him," Nux choked, his throat swelling. "There's no way he'd... imprint on me like that." He'd learned the word from Dag, who claimed that he had done it to Capable when they'd first met.

"Doesn't matter," Toast set down her glass.

"What do you hope to gain from this?" Capable said heatedly. "This conversation?"

"We want you to be careful," Cheedo looked at the pair. "He's obviously damaged-"

"Damaged?" Nux squinted. "He's damaged? Are you damaged? Are you all damaged? Am I damaged? You'd know better than me just how 'damaged' he is, you were all..." he trailed off.

They all looked down, avoiding each others' eyes.

"Maybe it wasn't the right word to use, but..." Cheedo continued after a moment, tension heavy. "You have a real power here, he's malleable. He's impressionable. If you're gonna play daddy, you gotta _play_ daddy, you know what I mean?"

"No."

Cheedo looked to Capable who gave her a knowing glance, her mouth in a tight line.

"We have to take him seriously," she turned her head to Nux. "We have to really, really, take this seriously."

Nux maintained eye contact with her, then nodded slowly.

The women smiled, having seen the pair finally admit to themselves the immenseness of the situation they'd denied themselves before.

–

"August!" Nux called, the boy scrambling from under a pile of of Pups. They laughed, pulling his hair. They'd only began to grow their own after a lifetime of shaving. They called to him as he advanced towards Nux, who looked fondly at the young man who had grown so much in only six months. His muscles had filled, his face squaring from the fat that had deposited. He looked so healthy, so vibrant. His smile shone so bright, his teeth improving with Remedy's help. His scars were more white now, less angry, able to be covered by black dots of clay.

"I need you to do something for me," he met August's bright eyes, his smile infectious.

The boy nodded, speaking volumes with no words.

"Go down to the docking bay," August nodded, following his words, "and report to Crack. He's got a real big, well, crack on his head, real obvious."

The boy waited for more, but when there was none, he nodded and rushed past Nux. The Pups whined, only to be reassured when Nux replaced August, roughhousing, playing, laughing.

August whipped himself into the chaos of the docking bay. They were sending off a shipment of water to Gas Town, receiving a shipment of Guzzoline in return. War Boys rushing left and right, orders flying, organized chaos to prepare for the huge Deporter that was lowering to the bay. August searched the crowd for Crack, the supposedly obvious mark missing his eyes.

"Ah, there," a voice boomed from behind him.

He pushed the memories of a similar voice from his head, using techniques that Nux had taught him during the late nights he'd woken up with nightmares. It worked. He smiled slightly, knocked back to reality when a tough hand gripped his shoulder.

The memories never came.

"August, yeah?" August met the man's face, slightly frightening with the large gash that indented his skull under the skin.

He nodded, mouth gaping though he knew it shouldn't. Crack laughed heartily, the boy confusedly smiling in return.

"Good to finally meet our new driver."

August's mouth fell from a smile to a confused gape, his lips touching once then parting again. Brows furrowed, he searched the man's face for answers; he was met only with the man grabbing his shoulder tighter, guiding him down to the bay.

He sat behind the wheel, gripping it, swallowing his fear. His mouth was dry. Nux had been showing how to drive, taking him out on the rigs, whirring around the desert on two wheels out of four. He'd wanted to laugh, only a coughy breath coming out, but Nux had cherished it. He'd cherished the way the gold caught in his wet eyes, visible through the goggles. August tried to remember now, all the gear shifts Nux had shown him, the way his foot pressed the peddles he currently toed. He drew a blank. How was he supposed to drive the tanker through the trade route?

"Who's on lancer for the new driver boy?!"

"Raw meat!"

"That's Nux's boy, shuddup!"

 _Nux's boy?_

August looked only to the horizon, feeling his stomach churn. There was no way, no way.

"Hey, War Boy."

August's head shot up to the sunroof, meeting Nux's excited eyes. His white paint stark against the gray roof of the garage.

August breathed out, smiling, happy to see him. His lancer. Nux was his lancer. He wasn't Nux's lancer, he wasn't second, he was first. He was doing this. He was going to drive this shipment.

The accompanying protective gunners revved their engines, the final gears turning. Nux raised his hand, gripping the edge of the rig with the other.

Five fingers.

Four.

Three.

The Boys cried, excited. They'd always been so ready, to ready to go, no matter how benign the mission. They loved their engines, they loved their machines. They loved the clay, the sand.

Two.

August gripped the wheel, his knuckles white even under the war paint. His jaw trembled as he closed it.

One.

With the pound of his fist, August slammed his foot on the pedal, the rig lurching forward.

The Boys raised their fists as they zoomed off, octane in their blood and smiles on their faces.

–

"Is that him?" the Pup asked, his arm wrapped around Capable's calf.

Capable watched with heavy lids at the three vehicles that burst from the bay. The first and largest led them, the lancer sitting atop the roof.

The desert wind blew her hair as she nodded and murmured, yes, yes it was, it was him.

The lancer reached up then pointed towards the single dot of red that decorated the pure, blue desert sky.

The Pups, and Capable, pointed back.  
–

August's throat emitted a painful wheeze, his eyes squeezed shut, his hair falling onto his sweaty, clay-covered forehead. He opened his eyes, tears stinging, pain radiating from his arm as he attempted to curl his fingers. He supported his body weight with his other arm, shaky but steady on the concrete.

"Glory be, boy!" one man rushed by his side, grabbing the boy's arm. He called out, at least as much as he could, with an open mouth and gritted teeth.

"What's happening?" another boy called from above.

"He hurt his arm," he bent it, the boy writhing. "I don't think its supposta bend like that."

"Fuck, that's Nux's boy. We're so shredded."

The two men, one with a missing eye and the other with the tip of his nose lobbed off, hovered over the boy with worried faces. August's eyes switched between them, then to his arm, twisted at a grotesque angle.

"Whaddwe do?"

"I dunno, go find Nux?"

"He'll shred us, no way."

"He's hurt, though. He needs help."

The man with no eye used the one he had to search the rafters above them.

"Nux!" he called.

"Whatre you doing? You wanna die today?"

August winced again, the pain radiating through his torso now.

"What happened?" Nux called from above, leaning over the railing from the first-level staircase.

"Just commere!" they remained with August, making sure the other War Boys that rushed past didn't bump him.

Nux jumped over the railing, noticing now that it was August the men had surrounded. He landed with a roll, having done this before like every other curious War Boy had done. He stumbled forward, the other Boys moving out of his path. His boots clunked loudly against the concrete, approaching August and the men who crowded him.

He fell to his knees, his hands extending towards the crying August, the suspension harness still attached to his hips, digging into the skin above his pelvic bones. Nux saw his arm, bent backwards as his body had crashed on it. He shook with pain. Nux grabbed the boy's head, little circles, little circles.

"Get Remedy," he said to the man with no eye. He scurried up, nodding, heading out.

Nux then turned to the man with the chopped nose. "You were supposed to tether him."

"Sorry, I-"

"You had one job!" Nux's voice was louder than August had ever heard, angrier. He was shocked, the pain biting him.

"Nux, he-"

"He can't get hurt," Nux snapped. "He's been hurt enough!" his voice cracked, barely audible. The other man said nothing, his brows furrowed.

"How far up was he?" Nux swallowed, August looking up at him with wide, dark eyes.

"Uh," the man pointed up, counting the rigs, "bout three levels."

"Glory..." Nux swallowed. August choked back more tears, Nux brushing his hair from his forehead. "It's alright, we'll get help, it's alright."

 _It's okay._

Remedy arrived, her medical bag in tow. She smiled shortly at Nux as she bent to her knees next to him, next to August.

"Relax," Remedy told Nux. He hadn't noticed that he'd been shaking.

"This is a pretty bad elbow hyper-extension," she concluded, feeling August's arm even as he writhed and gargled out pained noises.

"What does that mean?"

"His joint," she bent his arm forward, August crying out again. Nux's eyes flashed from August's desperate stare, to his arm, to Remedy's eyes, looking for answers. "is snapped out of place. Easy fix, I promise. Here," she reached into her black back, pulling out a clear slurry in a plastic bag, "hold this."

Nux did, keeping one hand on August. It was cold.

 _What is happening? What is that?_

Remedy pulled out gauze and tape, sighing, looking at Nux.

"You should look away," she said through tight lips.

Nux's eyes widened. "What? Why? What are you doing to him?"

"Let him hold your hand."

August's hand scrambled upwards, tapping against his pants.

Once.

Twice.

Thrice.

Nux nodded, his eyes focused on August's wide ones. "I'm not going anywhere," he gripped his hand, holding it tightly. The cold slurry rested on his thigh.

Remedy gripped the boy's upper and lower arms, and in one quick jolt, snapped his joint back into place.

Nux reeled. The boy's head slammed into the concrete with Nux's hand as a buffer, his legs peeling his back from the ground as he writhed in pain. Nux's hand stung with the impact, his other hand squeezed tightly by August's.

He wasn't supposed to get hurt.

Remedy reached over August's body, the pain still stinging, and grabbed the cold slurry from Nux's leg. Wrapping it gingerly around August's elbow, he felt the pain subside, cooled by the slurry and comforted by Nux's bright blue eyes.

"Use this," Remedy handed Nux the gauze, "to wrap it up when the slurry warms up. He'll need to avoid putting weight on it, and bending it back too much. But his ligaments and tendons will be fine, hes young."

Nux nodded, not knowing what a ligament or a tendon was, though understanding that August needed to rest. Remedy smiled at August, running her hand along his forehead, his cries subsiding and his body calming.

 _Thank you._

Nux helped the boy up, making sure to watch his arm.

"Izze alright?"

"Nice tumble ya took, kid."

"Didjer daddy give it a kiss?"

Laughter.

Nux groaned as he guided the boy to the observation deck, where the commotion of the garage was kept at bay.

Under any normal circumstance, Nux would have, and has, just assigned a different job to any War Boy that injured themselves. They needed everyone they could get, cars needed assembling, the flourishing blood banks needed tending to, newly introduced previously-Pups needed instruction. The vehicles remained the bloodline of the Citadel, the War Boys now a gracious propellent instead of battle fodder.

"Go back to the hightower," Nux instructed.

August was confused. He'd seen Nux reassign injured boys all the time, there was always something someone could do. He shook his head, brows furrowed.

"Go," Nux insisted. "It's too dangerous here for you."

 _Dangerous? But you let me do it before._

"It might not have been a good idea to have to be here at all."

August's stomach fell at that. He thought he was doing a good job, making Nux proud. It was just an accident, after all. It happened all the time to the other War Boys.

"You're not a War Boy, August. I don't think you really belong here," Nux placed his hand on his shoulder. "It's too rough."

August swallowed, following Nux's words with sadness. Nux handed him the gauze.

 _I am a War Boy. What else would I be? I wear the clay, I fix cars with you. I thought you wanted me to be a War Boy._ I _want to be a War Boy._

"Go."

August broke his gaze with Nux with a snap as he swung his body away from him, thrusting himself out of the door and into the stairway.

–

"Glory be," Natural approached August as he emerged into the foyer. "What happened?"

The other sisters gathered, Capable nowhere to be seen.

"Looks like he hurt his arm, poor thing. Did you fall?"

He nodded.

The women began to inspect the arm, the slurry now warm, and took the gauze from him.

"Melody can wrap you up real nice. Have you met her yet? She's good with caring for people, she's real nice, no worries."

"Where is Capable?"

"Out with the Pups."

"Should we tell her?"

"No, she'll just worry. It's nothing. He just needs to rest it."

"She'll be mad, she never wanted him to be down there in the first place."

August kept his eyes on the floor, watching the womens' feet shuffle around him.

 _What does she want from me? She said she was proud of me, that I was brave._

A woman with icy blonde hair emerged from the kitchen, listening to the other sisters explain what happened, and took the gauze from August. She sat him down, making him bend his elbow ninety degrees as she wrapped it, tight and firm.

Melody taped the gauze secure, smiling at August who watched her carefully. He'd felt better around women, especially around the Sisters, time healing all wounds as well as soothing words and little circles, little circles.

Capable wiped the sweat from her forehead as she pushed aside the curtain to the foyer, the heat of the desert behind her now. The Pups were fed and enjoyed meeting Nali and Serenity who would be joining her to help with them. So many were graduating from their boyhood, now young men who yearned to be the adrenaline-fueled clay-covered men they watched day after day. She was anxious, having inadvertently become attached to the boys despite her best effort not to. She never liked the danger that surrounded the War Boy's work, seeing the injuries they'd procured while just doing their work. It was unavoidable, just part of the day's job, but it was unfortunate to think of her little Pups getting hurt.

August met her eyes, green and confused. Wasn't he supposed to be with Nux until eight? It was only six, the sun in the sky hanging low.

Then she saw the gauze.

Her breath hitching, she rushed over to him who met her with sheepish eyes.

 _It's okay, I'm alright, nothing happened. Please don't be angry._

"Did this happen in the garage?" Capable asked, gently holding August's bent arm. "You fell, didn't you?"

He nodded, afraid, wishing he could explain.

"I knew it, I knew it," her voice raised. He didn't like when her voice raised. She was mad, she was mad at him, she was mad. He ruined it, he ruined everything, everything was-

"Are you alright?" her voice soft now. "Are you in any pain?"

He shook his head, his eyes studying her features, concerned.

She sighed, releasing his arm and standing. She turned her back to him, crossing the room to go to her bedroom.

 _I'm sorry._

He knew she closed herself off when she was mad, she always wanted to be alone. She'd be mad at Nux's lack of tact sometimes, or if a new baby was born and it didn't make it. She was mad at that, something August didn't understand. Capable would cry, he would hear, and he'd feel terrible and unable to help. He felt worthless, he felt powerless... the worst things he could possibly feel. He didn't know if she cried now, but he knew when she went to her room and closed the door with that particular thud, the door shouldn't be opened until Capable did it herself.

The sun was pulled lower into the horizon, and with August having decided to be anywhere other than the foyer and ending up wandering the Citadel, Nux was alone as he pushed aside the curtain. He thought August would be there with the women, anticipating seeing how he was doing, but with him being nowhere to be seen he shuffled towards the bedroom to clean off.

He met Capable's gaze, her hair splayed on the bed sheets and the blankets pulled up to her neck. He swallowed, knowing what that meant.

"I can explain what happened," Nux uttered.

Capable blinked slowly, her eyes scanning the exhausted Nux. Nux the War Boy, painted in clay to protect him from the sun and grease he'd endure all day.

Sighing, she sat up, her hair falling to rest behind her back. "I told you he would get hurt."

"It was an accident, though," Nux moved to sit on the bed, his feet still on the floor.

"As opposed to what? Someone hurting him on purpose?"

"Yeah, they get rough sometimes. But he just fell from the suspension."

"How?"

"His tether's a fuckhead."

Capable pursed her lips at his language.

"Then why was he his tether?"

"I can't supervise everything, Capable. He was just assigned to go on suspension, I assumed-"

"You can't assume anything, Nux!" she shouted then. She was frustrated, she was exhausted.

Nux was silent then, moving from the bed to unbuckle his pants and let them fall to the floor.

"What do you want me to do about it?" he said, grabbing a towel from the shelf.

"He's not going back there."

"You're being a bit... overprotective, don't you think?"

"Overprotective? He's just a boy, he-"

"He's eighteen, maybe nineteen. That's longer than most of us even live for. He can make his own decisions, he can do what he wants."

"How do you know what he wants?"

"Have you asked him?" Nux snapped back at her. "I doubted him being there too before I sent him back up here. But I think he really wanted to be there, wanted to go back and help."

She was silent, then. She really never considered it. It was Nux's idea in the first place to bring him down there, it must have been his idea to keep him there. She didn't see the way his eyes glittered even in the dim lighting of the garage, or the way he smiled getting rigged up for suspension.

"No. No, I've never asked him."

Nux nodded. He opened the door to the bathroom, shutting it behind him with slight enmity.

–

August woke up after everyone else had already gone off to work.

 _He must not want me to go back. He must want me to sit here, heal, do nothing._

He sighed, dragging himself out of bed. His arm still bent at ninety degrees, sleeping was difficult, but he was thankful he didn't have to wear a shirt as he managed to shuffle into his black canvas pants.

 _Well, fuck that._

He swung open the door, his hair still messy, and headed down to the garage.

–

Nux saw him from his suspension, his brown, curly hair bouncing from his face as he climbed down the stairs. He clenched his jaw, announcing that he was headed down, and felt the rope slide underneath his palm.

August looked around for Crack, someone to give him some instruction. He remained unpainted, having not visited the clay room yet. He wanted to avoid Nux, just get settled in his work somewhere, unseen and fulfilled.

"You really want to be here?" he heard from behind him, rolling his eyes before turning to meet him. Dammit.

He nodded twice, his lips pursed and his eyes intense. Nux rushed towards him, then, getting in his face, almost frightening him if he didn't respect him so much. Nux breathed heavy, their foreheads touching. He was challenging him, getting his adrenaline rushing through his veins, pumping him up. Other War Boys stopped to watch, this spectacle unexpected between the two. August swallowed, not breaking his stare with Nux, their breathing heavy, a low growl emitting from Nux's throat. It was tense, August's muscles clenched tightly meeting the antagonistic eyes of his exemplar.

"Get yer paint on, then," Nux barked.

August's mouth twitched into a smile then, his heart pounding as Nux parted from him. He nodded, meeting Nux's tough gaze as he started to back up, then turning from him to rush to the clay room.

"What'd you do that for?" Needles asked, his voice deep.

"If he's gonna be a War Boy," Nux turned to him, his eyes remaining intense. "He's gonna be a War Boy. I'm not his daddy here."

"So you're his daddy outside of here?" Needles smiled, his tongue teasing across his front teeth, sharp and slim like needles.

Nux smiled with him. "You could say that, yeah."

–

Nux returned, August in tow, both exhausted. Nux went on and on about some new prospect for a vehicle that had been in the works. August liked to hear him excited.

"How'd the day go for the War Boys?" Capable asked, hauling books from her room to the foyer to prepare for tomorrow's day with the Pups.

Suddenly, August rushed across the room to her, and wrapped her body in his arms, burying the side of his face in her hair. She jumped, surprised, then calmed, wrapping her arms around him as well.

 _Thank you._

Nux smiled, making soft eye contact with Capable.

One tug.

Two.

Three.


End file.
